


To Save Her

by Witch_Nova221



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Fallen Angels, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, PTSD, Post-Canon, Quests, Recovered Memories, Romance, tw:blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2020-07-10 08:16:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 148,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19902625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witch_Nova221/pseuds/Witch_Nova221
Summary: When new prophecies begin to emerge, Crowley and Aziraphale hurry to make sense of what they mean but all becomes clear when they find the Archangel Michael broken and injured on the doorstep of the bookshop. She tells them of a new rebellion in Heaven, led by Gabriel, that has cast out God. As word spreads, the forces of Hell become involved and Crowley is forced to face the truth of his past and choose the path of his future if they have any chance of restoring God to power in Heaven.





	1. Ode to a Nightingale

**Author's Note:**

> Well after a very long hiatus from fan fiction, I'm back. I couldn't resist writing a story for this awesome pair. Updates will be as regular as I can make them but I am now forging a career with my original fiction as well so I won't make promises on when chapters will be updated. I hope to do so once a week though. Please let me know your thoughts. Nova xx

The taxi drew up to the kerb outside an old fashioned looking bookshop, the facade one of many that was seen in London, still strongly rooted in the past even as the area around it grew and modernised. The taxi driver thought it suited his passenger, a quiet, unassuming man with more airs and graces than even the nobler of passengers he had carried from destination to destination. He wasn't even surprised at the vintage Bentley he found himself parked behind, the car clearly well loved and kept in pristine condition. 

'She's a beauty,' said the driver, pointing to the car he was admiring.

'A more contrary vehicle you could never wish to meet,' responded his passenger, handing him a a collection of crisp banknotes, 'Keep the change, good fellow, and a good day to you.'

He didn't have time to answer as his passenger opened the door and stepped out into the early morning, struggling under the box of books he dragged from the seat beside him. He had half a mind to get out and help but the door opened once more and a harassed looking businessman poured himself into the seat, giving directions for Victoria station which the driver swiftly followed.

Aziraphale paid little mind to the taxi pulling away from the kerb, too busy trying to balance a box of books along with the small travel case as he climbed the steps to the door of the bookshop. A quick miracle would have made it easier but since the Armageddon-that-wasn't and the subsequent business with Heaven and Hell he tried to keep them to a minimum despite it being over four years since his last encounter with any of his old colleagues. With that in mind, he finally settled his burdens and extracted his keys from his pocket, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

Despite the changes Adam had made when he restored the shop, the sense of home was overwhelming, warm and welcoming after a week away from the familiar comforts. He deposited the books on the nearest free surface, fingers eager to make a start on unpacking them but there were more pressing matters of business to attend to before he could do so. He looked down at the travel case before leaving it next to his desk as he passed, running a finger over the fine green leaves of the small spider plant that trailed down from one of the small shelves. He shook his head as he retrieved the black jacket from the back of the chair, shaking out the wrinkles before hanging it on the coat rack, taking off his own to hang beside it. 

Straightening his waistcoat, he headed towards the very back of the shop and the stairs to the rooms above. The carpet was far less worn the further up he went, the upper rooms not often used until a year or so before but a distinct tread was beginning to form, adding even more to the homely feel of the place. 

Whilst the ground floor was awash with the early morning light, the upper floors were still bathed in shadows, the curtains drawn across the windows and only allowing in a weak sliver of light. It was enough for Aziraphale to see by but he was sure he could make the journey even in complete darkness, feet so used to the climb. He ran a hand over the warm wooden bannister, a patina of age and use darkening it, an indulgent smile touching his lips as he found a familiar silver-grey scarf and black waistcoat hung on the post at the top. He picked up both, folding the waistcoat as he continued towards the first door on the landing. 

He peered through the gap, the familiar sight within making all the previous sensations of home pale in comparison. Warm, burgundy sheets covered the ironwork bed, most of them in a heap at the base save for the sheet covering the demon sleeping peacefully, arms bunched tight around the pillows. Aziraphale stepped in quietly, making sure to avoid the floorboard that creaked, depositing the collected clothes on the trunk at the foot of the bed before he made his way round to the unoccupied side. 

Sitting down on the mattress he reached out a hand, tracing a finger lightly over the silk-clad back where, were they manifested, two black wings would sit. The sleeping demon mumbled in his sleep, burying himself deeper in the pillow before settling again. 

'Crowley?' said Aziraphale, his voice low and measured in the peace of the room, 'It's morning, my dear.'

An inelegant snort was the only prelude to the demon pulling himself up to sitting, golden eyes wide to take in the low light of the room. He blinked slowly before a soft smile Aziraphale knew he would never own to settled on his lips.

'You're home,' he said around a yawn before he shook his head, 'Did I oversleep? You're not meant to be home until tomorrow.'

'I thought I'd come home early but if you want I can go away again and come back tomorrow.'

'Don't you dare,' said Crowley, a hand emerging from the covers to take hold of his sleeve, 'You've been gone entirely too long, bad angel. I was getting bored.'

'That always means trouble. At least you kept the shop standing.'

'Adam would kill me if I didn't,' said Crowley, abandoning Aziraphale's sleeve in favour of his hand, 'Missed you.'

'Why do you think I came home a day early?' said Aziraphale, his free hand cradling the angular cheek before he drew him into a soft kiss, 'Missed you, too, husband.'

Crowley smiled, 'That's still not got old.'

'Give it a few centuries,' said Aziraphale, 'It's only been a year, we're practically still on honeymoon.'

'A honeymoon where a certain angel has been distinctly lacking from my bed for the last six days.'

'Not any more.'

'Careful now, words like that can get you into all sorts of trouble,' said Crowley, fingers already tugging at a tartan bow tie.

'Oh I'm counting on that, darling,' replied Aziraphale, a well worn waistcoat quickly joining the bow tie on the floor beside the bed before a snap of Crowley's fingers shut the door tight against the world outside.

****

It had been three days since Aziraphale had returned from his vile and unnecessary book trip, as Crowley had christened it, and he had expected them both to fall back into the usual routine they had developed over the last year but Crowley, who was usually found flitting from attraction to attraction, seemed intent on breaking the norm. The first day of his return, Aziraphale was unsurprised to have the demon as his constant companion even when he had finally managed to extricate himself from their bedroom to actually begin sorting the books he had been away for so long to source. Crowley was always endearingly possessive after any period of absence; hovering and overly tactile but the angel enjoyed the attention, quite willing to admit that he too needed the comfort of closeness. Periods of absence from each other too easily dragging up memories of the times when it had been decades between their meetings. 

The second day would usually have had Crowley still making sure he was in the same room as the angel but he would soon be lost in his phone or working on whatever plants had come to live there – without the verbal abuse, a caveat that Aziraphale had insisted upon when the bookshop had become the permanent home for the both of them. It had been met with a good day of grumbling from the demon before he had agreed, the plants growing without the threat of being shouted out unless the demon desired a night back at the flat he still kept despite not spending time in it for weeks on end. Day two of Aziraphale's current return though seemed to merge with the usual pattern of day one but he didn't question it, happy to be back and surrounded by everything he had come to love. 

Day three, which would commonly involve Crowley disappearing for several hours to find mischief before bouncing back with the promise of dinner, drinks and all that came after, still retained the closeness of day one and Aziraphale began to grow uneasy at the change in what had become almost a tradition between them. With Crowley barely leaving his side for the whole day but still showing no other signs of distress, Aziraphale spent the best part of it half interested in his books whilst the other half was trying to figure out the behaviour of his husband. 

They had retreated to the roof when the sun began to set, Crowley having adopted the space as his own once he had seen the expanse that spread out beneath the London sky. He had populated it with several small greenhouses alongside the plants that could do well enough without the warmth, growing everything from fruit trees to flowers. Aziraphale had had a small amount of input into the area, creating an indulgent seating space set with a wide padded chaise, wide enough for two, easily shaded and protected by an awning that could be pulled over whenever it rained or the sun beat down a little too hard on the rooftop. 

The night was too warm and clear to warrant the awning but the stars were veiled by the lights of the city, only blackness above Aziraphale as he rested back on the chaise, a lamp at his side providing enough light to read by as Crowley busied himself in one of the greenhouses. The angel glanced up from the text before him whenever he heard the demon speaking to the plants he was working on, making sure the words were kind was the reason he gave himself but more so because he enjoyed the sound, a little piece of domesticity he had grown used to since their marriage. 

'Finally!'

The exclamation from the greenhouse was enough to have Aziraphale closing his book and sitting up a little straighter. 'Everything alright, dear?' 

The glass door hissed along its runners as the demon stepped out, clutching a small pot in his hands, the black silk dressing gown he had deemed appropriate for gardening in fluttering around his ankles. He crossed the roof, holding out the pot until Aziraphale took it from him. The orchid was almost pure white save for a flash of gold in the centre of its petals, the light from the lamp almost making them glow. 

'It's beautiful,' said Aziraphale, 'One of yours?'

Crowley nodded, 'Took a bit more work than I thought it would. It was supposed to be ready last year in time for the wedding but it wasn't quite right. I've called it Orchidaceae Angelus Aziraphale, a bit of a belated gift but I hope it was worth the wait.'

Aziraphale touched the tip of a finger gently to the delicate petals, 'You bred this for me? Oh Crowley, my dear, it's wonderful. Thank you.'

'It needs a little longer to strengthen up but it will be content on your desk so long as we give it some time in the sun now and then.'

'I will treasure it though you may need to help me take care of it, you have a much more successful touch than I have with all things green,' said Aziraphale, handing it back to Crowley and getting to his feet to follow him back into the greenhouse. 

Neat rows of plants closed in on all sides, surrounding the workbench that was littered with tools, soil already well engrained into the surface that spoke of hours of toil, what was once a simple outlet now turned into a passion. Crowley nestled the orchid back into its place, the white blooms luminous in the growing dimness. 

'You really do work some wonders in here,' said Aziraphale, 'I'd happily argue we can rival Kew Gardens.'

'Those amateurs could learn a thing or two from me,' said Crowley, stepping behind the angel and wrapping his arms around his waist, 'But I'm not sharing our garden with anyone but you.'

Aziraphale smiled, 'Our garden?' he said, 'Careful dear, one might start calling you sentimental.'

'You've been a dreadful influence on me, love,' said the demon, lips finding the soft skin just above Aziraphale's collar. 

Despite the welcome touch the angel couldn't help but frown, expecting the usual denial of sentimentality rather than acceptance of it. He reached up a hand, fingers slipping through the vibrant red hair, 'Crowley, dear, is everything alright?'

'Perfect from where I'm standing. Why?'

'Since I've come back you've been, close, different,' said Aziraphale, 'Don't misunderstand me, I adore having you so near but by now you've usually got cabin fever and I'm having to talk you down from whatever mischief you've planned.'

A soft sigh fluttered across his neck as Crowley tightened his arms slightly.

'I think maybe I'm getting old,' said the demon, 'I like home, I like our garden and I'm finding mischief, as you put it, is losing its excitement. Am I getting underfoot?'

'Don't be foolish,' said Aziraphale, 'I just want to make sure you're happy. I know I don't move at the same pace you do.'

'Then perhaps it's time I slowed down,' said Crowley, before he groaned, 'And now I sound dreadfully middle aged.'

'Well we have been on earth over six thousand years old, it was bound to hit at some point,' said the angel, 'Though I think I was created to be permanently middle aged regardless of location.'

'You were created to be perfect,' said Crowley, releasing his hold on the angel's waist and taking hold of his hand, 'Come on, it's getting too chilly in here with the door open, not good for your flower.'

He led the angel back to the chaise, encouraging him to sit down before he lay beside him. Aziraphale picked up the book he abandoned, moving it to the table beside him but Crowley's hand on his arm stopped him. 

'Is that my book?' he asked.

Aziraphale shook his head, 'Just a dry old thesis,' he said, 'I have to admit it was beginning to bore me.'

'Perhaps that's me rubbing off on you,' said Crowley, taking the book from his hand and laying it on the table, stealing the glass that was already there and drinking the remnants, 'Do we have any more?'

'Downstairs,' said Aziraphale, 'I can go and get some and fetch your book if you want it.'

Crowley shook his head, a click of his fingers enough to have a fresh bottle of wine appear on the table as he settled himself closer to the angel's side, 'Sorted.'

'But your book?'

'You know half of them without needing the book anyway,' said Crowley, sliding down until he rested his head over a heart that didn't need to beat but did, 'Would you?'

Aziraphale wrapped an arm around the slim shoulders, settling himself back against the chaise, 'Which one do you want to hear?'

'Keats,' said Crowley, 'Nightingale.'

Aziraphale smiled, easily calling the words of the poem to mind and beginning to recite them, fingers carding gently through his lover's hair as he became languid at his side. It was one of the favourites from the collection Aziraphale had selected, poetry and stories that covered so many of the years they had walked the earth together. The book was written and bound by his own hand, a gift to demonstrate his love in the best way he could. When he had presented it to Crowley two years before it had been sealed with a tartan bow but it had been the ring knotted into the fastening that had been the first thing to capture the demon's attention, the proposal delivered by the terrified angel moments after being the second. It was only after a tearful acceptance followed by several long minutes...hours...days – Aziraphale quite frankly was unsure- that the book was noticed. Long fingers, one now bearing a fine obsidian ring with a slim band of baguette cut diamonds running through the centre, trembling as they turned the pages, pausing now and then to read the words before passing it to the angel for him to read aloud. It was another tradition, another slice of domesticity that had been waited for for nearly six thousand years. 

He pressed a kiss to the flame red hair as he spoke the final lines, unsure whether Crowley was asleep or awake as he breathed evenly and quietly in his arms. He looked up at the fully dark sky above them, seeing a small flicker of light in the vastness and he couldn't help but chuckle as he realised what he was seeing. 

'What's funny?' murmured Crowley.

'The romance of the moment,' said Aziraphale, 'Even the weather satellite has made an appearance.'

Crowley snorted, 'How glorious. Damn light pollution,' he said before another click of his fingers plunged the seemingly dark world around them into deeper darkness, 'That'll do.'

Aziraphale blinked, eyes adjusting to the unexpected darkness, realising that the ever present ambient light of London was no more as the stars began to appear above them, 'What did you just do?'

Crowley shrugged, 'Turned off the all the lights in a ten mile radius.'

'Crowley!'

'What? It's romantic.'

'You, my love, are a liability,' said Aziraphale, 'You didn't turn off anything vital did you.'

'Unnecessary lights only,' he replied, 'But that is pretty much most of them at this time of night. Just enjoy the view, angel.'

Aziraphale looked down at the demon in his arms before turning his attention back to the stars above them, 'It's funny. Even after so long down here, I can still remember how they looked from...there.'

'Heaven might be a dirty word in this house but you can say it you know,' said Crowley, 'And it's ok to miss how they looked then. I...remember sometimes. Flashes of memory. I can remember them being created. Sometimes it's almost clear and other times...'

'Hush,' said Aziraphale, hearing the catch in his voice, 'You don't have to talk about it?'

'Do you remember me?' said Crowley, looking up at him, 'From back then or someone who looked a bit like me before I was cast out?'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'No, though I don't remember much, it's all a bit hazy until Earth and Eden became my purpose. I'm one of the last who were created so most of the stars are older than me and I'm only a principality.'

'Don't say only when you talk about yourself, love,' said Crowley, 'You were one of the last because She finally got one right in you. You could line up everyone of those archangels and their so-called good deeds and they wouldn't be a patch on you. I don't just fall in love with any old angel you know.'

'She got one other right, She just didn't see it. I do though. I've always seen it, even if I was blind to it for so many years,' said Aziraphale, taking hold of his left hand, tracing both the obsidian ring that had signified their engagement and the golden one he had placed beside it on their wedding day, 'If I had known you back then, I would have been terrified to even consider speaking to you. I've no doubt you were the most beautiful of them all.'

'Now who's getting sentimental?' said Crowley, though he could not hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

'Well given that you provided the lighting it would be remiss of me not to indulge in the romance of it,' said the angel, 'And you are so very beautiful, my love.'

'You're making it very difficult not to kiss you right now.'

'I'm hardly dissuading the notion, dear.'

The demon pushed himself up from his place at the angel's side, 'You do realise that if I kiss you now I have no intention of stopping, regardless of where it leads,' he said, leaning down and teasing a kiss against his lips, 'Shall we head inside?'

Aziraphale took hold of the edges of the silky black robe, holding the demon in place, 'I don't think the stars will give us away, do you?' he said, closing the short distance between them to capture his lips fully. 

It was only when the shrill ringing from inside the greenhouse grew too insistent to ignore that they reluctantly parted, Crowley growling as he looked over towards the offending sound.

'What the heaven is that?' 

'Your phone, I believe,' said Aziraphale, 'It has too be gone midnight, who would call at this time?'

'Wrong number,' said Crowley as the phone quieted, 'Where were we?'

The phone started again before Aziraphale could answer and he pressed a hand to his husband's chest as he seemed inclined to ignore it.

'Wrong numbers don't usually call twice,' he said, 'You should answer it.'

'The only person of importance to me is right here,' said Crowley, glaring at the greenhouse once more as the phone stopped and then started again.

'Adam has your number,' said Aziraphale, a frown creasing his forehead, 'We promised him if he was ever worried...'

Crowley sighed but climbed off the chaise, heading to the greenhouse as the phone made one last attempt to grab his attention. The door hissed quietly on its runners but the string of invective that came after it was enough to rouse those far beyond the ten mile radius the demon had plunged into darkness. 

'You want it answered, be my guest,' he said, reappearing and chucking the phone across the distance between them, Aziraphale catching it more by luck that skill.

The angel looked down at the screen, rolling is eyes as 'Rubbish Car' flashed on the screen. He held out a very thin hope that young Newton Pulsifer wouldn't find out what the demon referred to him as out of ear shot. He answered the call, the man's voice ringing out before he could even offer a greeting.

'Crowley, at last, I was worried I wouldn't get hold of either of you,' came the voice down the line.

'This is Aziraphale,' replied the angel, looking over to where his husband was pacing by the greenhouse, 'Crowley's somewhat indisposed.'

'Oh, I'm sorry. I tried the bookshop but there was no answer. I'm sorry it's so late but I didn't know who to call.'

Aziraphale sat up a little straighter as he heard the worry in the man's voice, 'Is something the matter?'

'It's Anathema,' came the shaky response, 'She's writing but not normal writing. It's all symbols but I can't get her to even acknowledge I'm in the room. It's like she's in some sort of trance.'

Aziraphale waved the demon to his side, glad when he came over despite his obvious distaste for the phone call, 'Put that on the speaker thing for me,' he said, handing him the phone, Newton's voice soon echoing between them.

'It's not writing I know but she has it in some of her books,' said the man. 

'When did it start?' asked Aziraphale, 'Did anything lead up to it?'

'Not that I remember. She just went into the kitchen and started writing in a book and now there's pages of it, all in strange letters and she won't stop. I didn't know who else to call.'

'It's alright,' said the angel, 'We'll come to you, first thing if it's convenient?'

'I was hoping that perhaps you could come now. I know it's late but...'

'We're on our way,' said Crowley before Aziraphale could answer, a wave of his hand replacing the silk robe with his more usual attire, 'When we hang up, take pictures and send them to me. Aziraphale might be able to decipher the writing when we're on route. I don't think there's a word written down that's beaten him yet. We won't be long. Take care of Anathema and we'll see you soon.'

He ended the call but kept it in his hand as he offered the other to Aziraphale, pulling him to his feet.

'Up for a late night drive?' he asked.

Aziraphale nodded, 'He sounds worried,' he said, 'And Anathema isn't one to play foolish jokes.'

'He said it was a language from one of her books and I have a feeling that didn't mean anything mainstream,' said Crowley, 'I don't trust it, not there.'

'You don't think...?'

'Let's not speculate yet,' said Crowley, as his phone beeped and he opened the image, yellow eyes widening at the sight of it, 'Aramaic. Old. Very old. I'm rusty at best.'

Aziraphale took the phone, scanning the image in an attempt to translate the scribbled text, 'We need to get to Tadfield, my dear,' he said, 'And I shan't scold you if you're a little heavy on the accelerator.'


	2. Modern Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley head to Tadfield and try to make sense of Anathema's writings.

It was gone two by the time the Bentley roared away from its spot outside the bookshop, Aziraphale having searched out several books to assist his translation of the images Newt had sent them. Despite his insistence that he would not scold his husband for his speed he still spent half the journey pleading with him to slow down a little if only to stop the books from tumbling into the foot well every two minutes. Still, they were both relieved to reach their destination long before the sun began to rise, the early morning and Crowley's driving ensuring it wasn't much after three when they pulled up outside Jasmine Cottage. 

The front door was opened before Crowley even had a chance to turn off the engine, Newt stood in the doorway wrapped in a moth eaten cardigan over his pyjamas. He looked equal parts frantic and relieved as he offered them a small wave by way of greeting, clearly not wanting to rouse his neighbours with voices so late in the night. Aziraphale was grateful for the helping hand as Crowley retrieved several of the books from his arms, carrying them into the house. 

'Where is she?' asked the angel, setting his burdens down on the nearest surface.

'Sleeping,' said Newt, closing the door behind them, 'Just stopped writing and went back to bed. I don't think she was ever awake. She's just sleeping normally.'

'Well let us hope she wakes with some answers,' said Aziraphale, 'Would you mind if I check in on her? I might be able to sense if there was any outside influence at all.'

Newt nodded, 'I'll come with you though, in case she wakes,' he said, 'Don't want to give her a fright.'

'Aziraphale isn't the scary one,' said Crowley, 'I'll stay out here. Don't want to crowd her.'

'There's a pot of tea on the kitchen table, help yourself,' said Newt, before he gestured to the hallway before him, 'After you.'

Aziraphale soon found himself in the darkened bedroom, the light from the hallway illuminating the sleeping figure on the bed. He stepped forward carefully, not wanting to startle her if she woke from her slumber. He knelt by the bed, a fond smile spreading over his lips as he saw her face relaxed and unguarded in sleep. He reached out a hand, hovering over her shoulder, close enough to sense if anything had influenced her behaviour but nothing but humanity echoed back, any outside forces beyond his ability to sense if there had been any.

'Anything?' whispered Newt, hovering at the foot of the bed.

Aziraphale shook his head, 'Nothing untoward,' he said getting to his feet, 'Let's give her some peace.'

'What do you think it is?' said Newt once the door was closed, 'She's never done anything like this before.'

'I don't know,' said Aziraphale, 'Could be as simple as sleepwalking, humans have performed a myriad of highly accomplished tasks whilst deeply asleep though I must admit writing fairly legibly in a language that went out fashion when I was still a young angel is not something I've read about before. Anathema may have a grasp on the language, I won't know until I speak to her. The phrases you sent me as well were odd. I couldn't make head nor tail of them. Agnes' prophecies at least made some sense, even if they took a little to interpret. These are single lines. Phrases.'

'Like what?'

'From the selection you sent through on the phone I managed to work out something about a flightless bird and another about someone in a sick bed. Nothing connected.'

'Have I brought you out here on a fool's errand?' said Newt sheepishly, 'I'm sorry if I panicked.'

Aziraphale patted his arm, 'Not a fool's errand at all, you were right to call us and I still have to look at the book you said she was writing in,' he said, 'Besides, I know I would worry if Crowley decided to do something so out of character.'

'Why do I hear my name being taken in vain?' said the demon in question as they rounded into the kitchen.

'I was talking about you, not to you, dear,' said Aziraphale, settling himself in a chair at the table and accepting the cup of tea that was slid across to him, 'Thank you.'

'How's Book Girl?' asked Crowley, flicking through the notebook bearing the scribbled notes, 'This stuff is weird.'

'She's fine, sleeping,' said Aziraphale, 'And I couldn't sense any outside influences, though an occult opinion wouldn't go amiss, I could have missed something.'

'Nah, you'd have spotted it. Besides, anyone from down there and I would have known about it the second we walked through the door,' said Crowley, spinning the book around to face the angel, 'You've got your work cut out for you here.'

'Indeed,' said Aziraphale, 'Newt don't feel you have to stay up for us. Anathema is safe and sleeping but she may need your support come morning so you should get some rest. I promise to wake you if I find anything.'

'I don't mind staying up,' he replied around a yawn.

'Get to bed,' said Crowley, 'Too many of us in here anyway.'

'Which is Crowley for goodnight,' said Aziraphale, 'Seriously, I will keep this one on his best behaviour and I'll work on what I can decipher here. You need to rest.'

'Which is angel for you're hovering and I need to work,' said Crowley, flashing a too sweet smile at the man in the doorway.

'Crowley!'

'What'd I say?' 

'I'll leave you two to it then,' said Newt, stepping back from the doorway, 'Let me know if you need anything. Key to the front door is in the bowl on the sideboard and...you can make miracles so I'm going to shut up and go to bed before Crowley does that snake thing again.'

'Goodnight Newt,' said Aziraphale as he disappeared out of sight and back to the bedroom, 'He's still carrying the snake thing. I told you not to do it.'

'But it was hilarious,' said Crowley, 'Ask the kids, they loved it.'

'Hmm, same level of humour you lot,' said Aziraphale, 'Just don't antagonise the boy, he's frantic enough.'

'What do you make of it then?' said Crowley, reaching up and removing his dark glasses now it was once again just the two of them, 'I can't make head nor tail of it but I'm not as clever as you.'

'I'm going to need to translate as much as I can and then try to piece it together from there,' said Aziraphale, 'Then hopefully in the morning Anathema can maybe give us some idea.'

'Can I help at all?'

'Keep me in tea and good company. This is going to take most of what's left of the night.'

Dawn was peeking over the horizon when Crowley stole a glance up from the pages of translation he had been looking over, seeing Aziraphale reach up an ink stained hand to rub at his neck before returning to translating the remainder of Anathema's writing. It had been an arduous process, the language often too garbled or the writing too hastily scribbled for the angel to make an accurate translation even using the myriad of books he had brought with him on the subject. His jacket and waistcoat were abandoned on the chair beside him, his bow tie hanging loosely around his neck, a sight Crowley was certain he had never seen outside of the sanctuary of their bookshop. It was enough to outwardly show not only how seriously he was taking his work but also how much it was taxing him. 

Crowley set aside the papers, rubbing at his own eyes as he got to his feet and walked around the table, setting a hand gently on the angel's shoulder so as not to startle him as he stepped up behind him. He brushed aside the loose tartan bow tie, long fingers undoing the first two pearl buttons to grant him better access as he began to work loose the knots beneath the soft pale skin that the night and the work had wound there. Aziraphale let out a little hiss of discomfort as Crowley hit a particular stubborn knot but leaned back into it all the same.

'You should have moved around a bit more,' said the demon, 'You've been hunched over those pages too long.'

'And I'm still not sure to what aim,' said the angel, 'Did my translations make any sense?'

'They make sense in the fact that they're in English but as for any meaning, I can't see anything. That Nutter woman at least wrote in full sentences most of the time. These are just bizarre snippets but at least there's no mention of Heaven or Hell or war amongst them.'

'I think there was one about a battle.'

'The battle will be fought at home in the garden,' recited Crowley, 'But unless we're making a stand on the roof terrace back home, I can't see it relating to us. Unless Anathema says anything otherwise when she wakes I think this genuinely could be just some really weird human sleepwalking.'

Aziraphale set down his pen and reached up to pat the hand on his shoulder, 'I'm truly hoping you're right. I don't want... it's only been four years. I want longer before we have to deal with anything from either side again and this makes me worry so.'

'I know,' said Crowley, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple, 'The both of us look for signs in anything untoward but if we keep looking over our shoulder it won't matter if it's four years or four millennia, we'll have only have lived half a life if we spend it looking for something that might never come.'

Aziraphale sighed, 'I just don't want to miss anything. We were so close to losing everything because we were always second guessing, not seeing what was right in front of us. I can't look back and see this point as the moment we could have done something if everything goes wrong again.'

'The fate of the world does not rest solely on your shoulders, Aziraphale. I'm not saying we disregard this entirely but leave it for now and wait until Anathema wakes up. The sun's coming up, come watch with me, fresh air will do you good.'

His fingers abandoned their place at the angel's shoulders, one reaching down to take his hand before he could pick up the pen again and get himself absorbed once more in the translations that were defying him. With the smallest of persuasions, Aziraphale got to his feet, stumbling a little after being sat down in the hard wooden chair for so long. 

'Easy,' said Crowley, steadying him before he picked up his familiar dark glasses and covered his eyes once more, 'I should have got you moving sooner.'

'I suppose I'm not so used to just sitting around all night and reading any more.'

Crowley's grin was wicked and more than a little smug, 'You're welcome.'

'Incorrigible,' said Aziraphale as they headed to the front door, a click of Crowley's fingers making short work of the locks. 

The air outside was crisp and clean, the polluted notes of London long forgotten and the scent of rain on the horizon brought with it a freshness that had every ache retreating. Crowley sat down on the bench, leaning back against it before he patted his lap, glad when Aziraphale took the hint and lay himself down on the remainder, his head resting on the demon's slim thighs. 

'I know Virtue doesn't sleep, angel, but close your eyes,' said Crowley, fingers tracing a soothing pattern through the pale, blond hair in his lap, 'You can rest. I'll keep watch.'

Aziraphale smiled even as he did as he was told, 'You know me too well.'

'Husband,' said Crowley, 'It comes with the job description. You may not need sleep but you're exhausted, you were even before this. You need to rest and trust me to protect us for a while.' 

The sun broke the horizon, covering the fields before them in bright pinks and luscious lilacs before turning to burnt orange and then bright, clear daylight. Earthly light, not the clinical glow of Heaven's Halls, cold even in their brightness. It was a light that still lingered in Crowley's darker dreams, dreams of the time he had masqueraded as the angel resting against him but also deeper dreams set far back in the forgotten parts of his memory. The place of their creation or not though, Heaven had never been home. Home was a tiny blue marble with all its faults and wonders and sunrises. 

'The battle will be fought at home in the garden,' murmured Aziraphale, after long minutes of restful silence, 'The flightless bird will lie amongst the leaves. Brothers will stand united once more. Rivals will steal into the halls of man.'

'You can't leave them, can you?' said Crowley, recognising some of the phrases that had already been translated.

'I just wish they made sense.'

'You can't make sense from the senseless,' said Crowley, before he laughed to himself, 'Fancy causing a scandal?'

Aziraphale opened his eyes, 'You've lost me,' he said as a deceptively strong arm snaked beneath his shoulders to guide him into a kiss. 

'Well...I never...'

Aziraphale pulled back as he heard an unexpected voice from the roadside, feeling himself blush crimson as he saw the man the children particularly enjoyed teasing for his interfering with everything and nothing in the village, hurriedly turnabout and head back down the lane with his little dog waddling in tow.

'Oh you utter demon,' he muttered, though he couldn't keep the laughter from his voice.

'Guilty as charged.'

'He'll be even more unbearable now.'

'Not sure if that's possible. Made you laugh though,' said Crowley.

Aziraphale sat up, 'Yes, I suppose it did,' he said, rubbing a hand over his face, 'And you are right about me needing to rest. I feel as though I've been more concerned with our former sides in these last four years than I ever was when we were reporting to them. I don't want to waste these years worrying.'

'Holiday,' said Crowley.

'Beg pardon?'

'Let's go on holiday,' said Crowley, 'I know it doesn't solve anything but we're in the old familiar places, places that still remind us of them. Other than those days in Venice after the wedding we've barely left London so let's go. Big, bloody world and we helped to save it so let's go see it.'

'What? All of it?'

'Why not?' said Crowley, 'We've got no significant ties and those we do have we can drop in on, we don't always have to travel the human way but it might be fun to do so. Just you and me, out there, seeing the world and not giving a damn who sees us. Just think about it, different cultures, different languages. You could pick up some amazingly rare books, find first editions in flea markets. Not to mention the food and then...'

'Then what?' said Aziraphale, blue eyes lighting with excitement at the prospect of the adventure.

'Countless hotel rooms,' said Crowley, 'Countless overpriced hotel rooms with stupidly big beds.'

'Trust you to think about where you sleep.'

Crowley grinned, 'It wasn't the sleeping I was thinking about,' he said, laughing as the angel blushed, 'Sometimes you make that far too easy.'

'And you enjoy teasing too much,' said Aziraphale, 'I think a holiday sounds perfect with the places and the food and the books and the stupidly big beds. So long as Anathema doesn't tell us anything we don't want to hear when she wakes up.'

Crowley sighed, 'Kill the moment, love,' he said, 'Here's hoping this is nothing then. I've already got plans.'

Aziraphale took hold of a black clad arm and pulled it around his shoulders, 'It's still early, they won't wake for a while,' he said, 'So tell me your plans and I'll tell you some of mine.'

The sun was well and truly up when Newt came to find them, inviting them in for breakfast and coffee as Anathema slept on, none of them willing to wake her before she was ready despite the need to question her sleep walking. The knock at the door that came shortly after they had settled back down at the kitchen table had been unexpected but the sound of a familiar yapping bark of a former hell-hound had Crowley heading to the door before the visitor could knock again. 

The scrawny eleven year old former-Antichrist they had first met had slowly been replaced by a handsome young man of fifteen, the awkwardness of his early teens melting away but a little of the child still remained not least when he launched himself into the demon's arms the minute the door was opened. 

'You didn't say you were coming,' he said, Dog bounding into the kitchen and already sniffing around whichever ankles he could find, 'I've missed you.'

'Bit of an unplanned visit,' said Crowley, returning the hug before ushering him inside.

'You're the talk of the corner shop,' said Adam, leaving Crowley and hurrying to Aziraphale, greeting him with the same warm hug, 'Something about scandalous behaviour.'

'Oh if he wants scandalous behaviour...'

'Crowley,' warned Aziraphale, 'There is a child present.'

'He hears worse at school,' said the demon.

Adam grinned, 'He's kinda right.'

'Speaking of school, shouldn't you be there?' said Newt, 'It's definitely a Monday. I phoned in sick.'

Adam wrinkled his nose, 'Not catching sick are you? It's an INSET day, everyone's off,' he said, 'I was taking Dog for a walk and thought you might want to come along.'

'Me?' said Newt.

Adam frowned, 'I was thinking more these two,' he said, 'It's been ages since I saw you both.'

Crowley looked down at the notes piled on the table but the tone of Adam's voice was enough to prompt a different response to what he had initially thought to give, 'Aziraphale has something to work on,' he said, meeting the angel's gaze, the small nod of his head enough to let him know that he had heard it too, 'But I'm a bit surplus to requirements. You're picking up anything Dog deposits on the way though.'

'Keep your phone on,' said Aziraphale, 'And be good.'

Crowley nodded as Adam called Dog out from under the table and back towards the door, 'See you in a while.' 

Over 6000 years of acquaintance meant that many things didn't need to be said or even communicated with look. Crowley knew the questions the angel wanted answered even as he left the kitchen to follow Adam to the door. Why was the boy so eager to see them that he turned up unannounced when every previous time they had visited Tadfield he had called Crowley on the number they had left with him the day they thwarted the apocalypse? Why was he alone when he was always with his three friends? Why was there a tone of desperation in such a casual request? He wished they didn't need the answers. He wished that he wasn't following the former-Antichrist from the house of the young descendent of Agnes Nutter who had mysteriously begun writing things that looked scarily like prophecies. 

Thoughts of a holiday and finally getting Aziraphale to step down from his heightened vigilance began to evaporate like the morning dew as he stepped out into the sunshine with Adam and Dog. He wanted to run back inside, drag his angel to the Bentley and speed away from it all but it would follow, he knew it would. It always did.


	3. The Human Seasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley spends time with Adam and the Them whilst Aziraphale gets to the bottom of Anathema's writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly longer chapter this time and a little bit of a teary one towards the end. Please let me know your thoughts if you can. Would love to know what people think so far and thank you to all who have left kudos and comments already.

Crowley believed that he had a great deal of patience, especially for a demon who was easily distracted, however it was currently wearing unduly thin with Adam's chatter about school and GCS-somethings and what Pepper's mum had said about the new substitute teacher. He was trying to accompany his growing frustration with little mantras that sounded like Aziraphale's voice in his head. He's only a child still. He's anxious, give him time. You are over six thousand years old and therefore the grown up so behave like one. The last one definitely sounded far too much like Aziraphale and he shook his head to rid himself of it even though he knew it was good advice. 

He had grown very fond of the young man he had once thought to be his enemy, so fond in fact that he was listed under his given name on his phone rather than any sort of nickname. He enjoyed watching him grow, hearing about his adventures but there was always an undercurrent of wariness, a worry that somehow the powers of Hell would inflict themselves on him again and restart what they had worked so hard to stop. It was with that in mind that Crowley decided there had been quite enough chatter about maths homework, not least because it made his head hurt, and he cut the boy off mid flow.

'You didn't really want me to come out here to discuss simultaneous wotsits, did you?'

Adam froze where he had been picking through the detritus of a tree to try and find a good chasing stick for Dog, 'I...guess not,' he said with a sigh, 'I guess demons can tell when people are hiding things.'

'That and you're as easy to see through as a window,' said Crowley, sitting down on one of the larger roots at the base of the tree, 'So out with it.'

Adam hesitated, the same look he had worn as a frightened eleven year old falling over his face, 'It's difficult,' he said with a sigh, 'And can take your glasses off. I don't like it when I can't see someone's eyes. There's no one about and anyway, Pepper says most people would think you just have a thing for weird contact lenses these days. You don't look half as strange as some of the kids did last Halloween.'

Crowley looked around finding there was no one but Adam and Dog in sight and they were far enough off the main road to avoid too many passers by. 'Alright,' he said, taking off the dark glasses and putting them in his pocket, 'That's my end of the deal and now it's your turn. Something is bothering you, isn't it? Has anyone from...'

'This isn't about Hell,' said Adam, scuffing the ground with the toe of his boot, 'Not directly anyway and if it makes you feel better I haven't seen anyone from back then other than you and Aziraphale since. Not even a glimpse. I promised I'd tell you if I did.' 

'You said not directly,' said Crowley, 'Which means it's something still related to Hell.'

Adam sighed, folding himself onto the root next to him, 'I'm worried,' he said, 'Worried that one day it will all be too much like it was then. I can still do things sometimes, when I'm really mad or upset. I popped a lightbulb the other day when I couldn't translate something in my French homework. I don't want to lose control. I might hurt someone important.'

'The offer still stands to speak to your mum and dad,' said Crowley, 'Trust me, wouldn't take much for Aziraphale and I to convince them but it might take a while to peal your dad off the ceiling.'

'I'm not so worried about them,' said Adam with a small laugh, 'You're right about dad though. I think I can be ok around them because I love them, even if they annoy me. Like really love them to the point where I couldn't hurt them. I couldn't hurt Brian and Pepper and Wensley either, that's what helped me get better last time. It's...other people I'm worried about.'

Crowley frowned, 'That sounds like other people in particular rather than just a general thing. Is someone bothering you?'

Adam shook his head, 'No...well, yes but it's not a bad bother. She's new and she's... I just worry.'

Crowley bit back a grin but couldn't help the tease, 'A she and she's important...'

'Oh shut up,' said Adam, 'Don't be a git about it and don't tell anyone, not even Aziraphale. It's just when I see her and everything gets all mixed up and what's left of my powers start misbehaving. I made a glass beaker blow up in science class because Mr Philips made her be my lab partner. I don't want to hurt her and I don't know how to tell her what I am. It's easy with the others, they already know but no one else does.'

Any teasing evaporated as Crowley heard the genuine worry in the young man's voice, the tone reminding him of Warlock when he was in his care and fretting over whether he was pleasing his parents, 'What's her name?' he asked, seeing the small smile appear on Adam's lips.

'Olivia,' said Adam, 'She's really nice and clever and she's really kind. I don't know...if she knew what I was. How does it not matter? Like you and Aziraphale I mean, you're meant to hate each other but, well, you got hitched so clearly you don't, like majorly don't.'

Crowley laughed, 'I can safely say I majorly don't hate him,' he said, 'We're hardly the best example either. We knew what we were when we met and we've had six thousand years to reach the getting hitched stage as you put it. With you and Olivia, you're not starting out on the same footing but it's not a complete roadblock. In terms of your powers, I can help you learn to control them. We're different of course but I can help where I can, channel them somewhat so you don't blow things up. As for her knowing what you are, that can wait. Let her get to know Adam and, if it gets to a point where you really feel she needs to know, like with your parents, Aziraphale and I can put on a bit of a show. You humans are a stubborn race but there's only so much denial you can manage. You're only fifteen, Adam, give yourself some time. You're still learning who you are.' 

The boy smiled, reaching out the ruffle Dog's fur as he trotted back over to them, 'I'm glad you didn't just disappear when everything was over. I can't talk to anyone like I can talk to you. You get it.'

'Hell leaves a sting,' said Crowley, 'But it gets better and we'll always be here, you can be guaranteed of that. We're only ever a phone call away. Is Miss Olivia the only thing that's bothering you?' 

Adam shrugged, 'That and my English homework but I reckon Aziraphale is the better one to ask about that, it's Shakespeare.'

'I can do the funny ones.'

'It's Hamlet.'

'Talk to Aziraphale,' said Crowley with a shudder.

'Maybe later. I'm meant to be meeting the others, they'd like to see you. Can you come for a bit?'

Crowley nodded, getting to his feet and retrieving his glasses from his pocket as Adam located a stick for Dog and pitched it across the nearby field. His words had calmed the demon's fears somewhat but it would do no harm to remain with him for a little longer, just to make sure that nothing was trying to influence his powers. He hoped though that the worry that had been lifted with Adam was similarly played out at Anathema's house, something sinister reduced to merely human concerns. 

xxxx

Humans truly were messy creatures. Messy and strange and utterly infuriating, especially when the male of the pair Aziraphale currently found himself with had 'come over all funny' and retreated to the bedroom leaving the angel in question to hold back lengths of long brunette hair as Anathema relieved the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. 

'He is utterly useless,' said Anathema, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she recovered slightly, 'Don't know why I married him. Sorry you got stuck with me when I'm sick... why are you here anyway?'

'Long story,' said Aziraphale, patting her back before getting to his feet and wetting a flannel in the sink, 'Here.'

'Thank you,' said Anathema, patting down her face with it, 'I feel a little better now. Probably something I ate. Thanks for sticking with me.'

'Least I could do,' said Aziraphale, offering her and hand and steadying her when she got to her feet, 'Let's get you somewhere a little more comfortable.'

'Kitchen, I'm hungry,' said Anathema before she shouted towards the bedroom, 'You can come out from hiding now.'

'I can't help it, I get sick in sympathy,' groaned Newt, 'I'm sorry.'

'Idiot,' muttered Anathema though there was no venom in her tone as Aziraphale guided her to the kitchen and down onto one of the chairs, 'Remind me to make sure you're here again the next time I get ill. Are those my books? What are they doing out?'

Aziraphale frowned, 'They are the reason I'm here,' he said, pouring her a glass of water and pushing it across the table, 'Do you remember anything about last night?'

Anathema wrinkled her nose in thought, sipping at the water, 'Watched pointless English television, worked on a magazine article for a while when Newt went to bed, headed to bed myself about an hour later.'

'And after that?'

'Woke up, felt like I was going to throw up, realised I was and the rest you know because you were there rather than my husband.'

'The poor boy was rather green,' said Aziraphale, picking up the book she had been writing in during the night, 'You have no memory of this then?'

Anathema looked down at the page, 'I don't... Aramaic? I can barely read it. I only studied it for a short while, just as a comparative. I need a translation matrix to work it out. I was writing this.'

Aziraphale nodded, 'Not that I witnessed it myself but Newt called us last night, very distressed and we came straight over. He thinks you were sleepwalking but of course, worry is that it's more than that.'

'Prophecy,' whispered Anathema, looking for a moment as though she would be diving for the bathroom once more, 'No, I don't... I hoped that was over.'

'It may be, dear girl,' said Aziraphale, taking hold of her hand across the table, 'Don't distress yourself. The phrases are odd but they don't echo your ancestor's works. Perhaps they are snippets of what you studied, bleeding through the subconscious. The human brain is really quite fascinating with what it can retain. If you have the book to hand I could make a study of it against the writings I've already translated.'

Anathema frowned, 'The book would be in America, I can't even remember if I got it from the college library or the public one. Either way you'd have a job to find it, I can't even recall the title,' she said, 'No one other than Agnes has written prophecy in the family, we just studied it.'

'You didn't study the other one,' said Newt, finally appearing in the kitchen and looking a little healthier than he had previously.

'Other one?' said Aziraphale.

'Agnes' new prophecies,' said Newt, 'We burned them.'

Aziraphale knotted his hands together on the tabletop, 'New prophecies? What new prophecies?'

'Oh God,' muttered Anathema, 'I was going to tell you but then everything seemed fine and I didn't want...'

'There were prophecies, more than the book I saw? Prophecies by Agnes?' said Aziraphale, 'How?'

'She sent them,' said Anathema, 'Here for after Armageddon. They said they were for the world that came after it.'

Anger was not a common feeling for the angel, he tried wherever he could to avoid it. Minor irritation was one thing but anger, real anger was not common place, especially when he wanted to direct it at someone he called a friend. It was the only way to describe what he was feeling though, the years of worry after the Armageddon-that-wasn't and he could have known what was coming. Agnes had never missed her mark in the previous book and he doubted she would have missed it in her second.

'The knowledge in that book,' he said quietly, 'The things it could have told me. Things I need to know to protect all of you and you burned it, without a thought of the consequences. Agnes was good at what she did. She saved so much...so much with her words. Crowley and I... you burned it. Do you realise what you've done?'

'I'm sorry, I didn't think,' she said, 'I just didn't want to have to live with her over me any more.'

'You didn't have to,' said Aziraphale, getting to his feet, pacing the small space, 'You could have given it to me, trusted me to use it wisely but instead you destroyed it. A book that could have been a road map for everything yet to come. Could you not have stopped for a moment to just think about what you were risking? It wasn't just your life. It's Adam's and the children, Crowley, me, everyone who was there. Don't think our cards still aren't marked by both Heaven and Hell for what we all did. All of us had a part in destroying what they wanted to happen. I'd credited you with more intelligence than this.'

'You don't get to talk to her like that,' said Newt, drawing himself up as tall as he could behind his wife, 'I don't care who or what you are but you don't get to say that.'

'He's right though,' said Anathema, 'I screwed up. I'm sorry Aziraphale, I didn't think and I screwed up.'

Whilst anger was not a common emotion for the angel, compassion was and the tears in the eyes of the frightened young woman before him had it rushing to the forefront, washing away all previous thought and he collapsed sadly into the chair opposite her once more. 

'Don't cry, dear Anathema, please don't cry,' he said gently, 'It's done and I understand why. Forgive me, I shouldn't have said any of that. You too Newt, you're quite right, I shouldn't have spoken like that. You're my friends, both of you and it's not your job to save the world. I'm panicking over things I'm not yet sure of and it's making me snappish. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be worrying about you, not some silly old book.'

Anathema reached up and patted Newt's hand, his grip loosening and the touch but he didn't move back from her chair.

'Apology accepted,' she said, 'Do you think maybe what I was writing are the prophecies I burned then?'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'They don't read like Agnes' and they're much more abstract. I'm inclined, now I know you have studied the language, to think that it is perhaps something simple. A subconscious throwback made apparent due to what I suspect is your current condition and yet another reason why I shouldn't be upsetting you.'

'I'm lost,' said Anathema, hesitantly, 'What condition?'

'Well, I might be a stuffy old angel but this morning you have greeted the day in a less than orthodox fashion and then promptly complained of being hungry. Add to that the fact that you would have probably slapped me rather than cried had I spoken to you in such a way as I did moments ago, if I had done so perhaps a month or two before today. Your sleep pattern has been disturbed and lastly, you will forgive me dear, but you are a little rounder in the cheeks than you were last I saw you,' he said, 'You would need to confirm it with someone a little more qualified than I but I wonder if perhaps a little stranger isn't on his or her way.'

Anathema smiled, 'I had been wondering myself, actually.'

'I'm confused,' said Newt, 'What stranger?'

Anathema turned in her chair to face him, 'A baby, our baby,' she said.

'Oh,' said Newt, 'Well that's...'

'You're going to have to help me pick him up,' said Anathema as Newt promptly crumpled to the floor, 'And then we're going to sit down and talk about this whole prophecy, pregnancy, weird sleepwalking thing properly.' 

By the time they had roused Newt and discussed all they needed to, the sun was well passed its zenith. A little more confident that they had a way to move forward with fathoming out what was going on, Aziraphale set out to find Crowley and update him on the news after several attempts to call him had gone unanswered. It was a pleasant enough day for a walk to Hogback Wood though and the solitude of the journey allowed him some time with his own thoughts. 

The sound of laughter and music assured him he had taken the right path, the sound filling him with confidence that the demon's discussions with Adam had gone well and there wasn't too much to worry about from that quarter. He rounded a bend in the forest path that led to the camp the children still held despite being in their mid-teens. It was an idyll of childhood, a space of innocence, joy and love and Aziraphale let the sensation wash over him, easing some of the tension that had gathered since Newt's first phone call. The sound of Crowley's laughter joining the children's was an added balm, the sound always so carefree when he was with them. He had always had an infinity for children, understanding them better than many others, a skill he seemed to have been designed with rather than something learned. Aziraphale had seen it even as far back as Mesopotamia when Crowley had dared to incur the wrath of Hell purely to save one or two young lives from God's flood. He had never complained about the burns, had merely nursed them with patience and a look of determination on his face. It was one of the moments that had made Aziraphale realise he was in the presence of someone special and there had been so many more since. 

The scene that greeted him involved a rope swing tied on one of the higher branches of the trees, the children swinging high over the camp with screams of laughter. The swing was too high and too perfect to be natural and every pass was accompanied by the snap of fingers, Crowley's eyes trained on them even as he laughed at their enjoyment. Aziraphale pushed down the impulse to tell him not to be so frivolous with his powers, his own decision to only perform miracles wherever necessary not effecting the demon's choices. Hell had never seemed as concerned with Crowley's use of miracles as Heaven had been with his. 

Aziraphale knew he had been noticed when Crowley's voice rang out over the laughter.

'Alright you lot, last time and then you climb down, slowly,' he called, four noises of protest echoing back but the swing crossed the expanse one last time before they began the descent on the rope ladders that wound up the tree. 

'Enjoying yourself?' said Aziraphale, heading towards the tree he was sitting beneath.

'Passes the time,' said Crowley, 'You have news?'

'That I would have told you over the phone if you'd answered it.'

Crowley frowned, reaching into his pocket and retrieving the device, 'Must have knocked it onto silent. We were messing around with this face-snap-twit thing. Pepper's idea. I'll show you the pictures later. Tell me what happened at Anathema's.'

'Without prying ears maybe?' said Aziraphale, nodding to where all four children were standing and pretending not to listen.

'Oi, you lot, clear off and let the supernaturals talk,' said Crowley, 'Then I'll let you at him with your funny face changing apps.'

'What am I being sacrificed too?' said Aziraphale.

'All in the name of fun, love,' said Crowley, getting to his feet, 'Anyone under the age of the Earth, vamoosh! We'll find you in a bit.'

'They'll only be snogging anyway,' moaned Pepper, 'It's grim when adults think they're young.'

Crowley laughed as the small band made their way deeper into the woods, 'Not often I'm accused of being an adult,' he said, taking hold of Aziraphale's hand, 'Walk with me and you can bring me up to speed. Got to the bottom of it yet?'

'Yes and no,' said Aziraphale, 'Catalyst for definite at least. They're to be parents. Anathema's pregnant which explains the disturbance in sleep patterns at best and a connection to a latent prophetic ability at worst. Throughout history women are shown to be more greatly in tune with their power when they're with child so it would stand to reason that she may be accessing hers.'

'Bit not good,' said Crowley before he waved a hand, 'The power part, not the baby. The baby's great news, though Mr Rubbish Car as a father...'

'I've already had to scoop him up off the ground twice today,' said Aziraphale, 'I was quite glad to come and find you, left them to come to terms with it. All in all though, I am hoping it's all just nonsense but to be on the safe side I said I'd stay for a couple more nights, keep watch. If Anathema writes again at least I can observe the process with a more discerning eye than a concerned husband could manage.'

Crowley frowned, 'I might have to leave you to it, love,' he said, 'Only realised when I was messing about with the kids that I've got a date with my young man the day after tomorrow. I could stay tonight but then I do need to go back to London. We're having tea at Claridges.'

'Of course you need to go, I didn't realise it had been a month already,' said Aziraphale, 'I can just as easily get the train home so no need to stay tonight even, unless you want to. Do be sure to give my best to Warlock when you see him though...well, Brother Francis' anyway.'

'I will. He always asks after you anyway,' said Crowley, 'I tell him you write to me now and then. Perhaps one day I'll find a way to tell him the truth. I want him to know.'

'When he's a little older maybe,' said Aziraphale, before he smiled to himself, 'Now, shall we head back to the village or shall we do something about the four young people who are desperate for us not to realise they are hiding in a bush and listening.'

Crowley grinned, taking off his dark glasses and handing them to the angel in front of him, 'Leave them to me,' he said, the space he had been standing in suddenly empty. 

At least the residents of the nearby village were used to the screams echoing from Hogback Wood and therefore would not come to investigate the source only to see a large, black snake chasing four giggling teenagers around the wood, nipping at- but always missing- their ankles as an unconcerned English gentleman who looked a good hundred years out of his time looked on with a fond smile. 

xxxx

The bookshop was warm and hazy, the late afternoon sun dancing with the dust motes that floated in the air. Aziraphale half expected Crowley to be napping in the window seat he had created for himself on the shop floor that always attracted the best of the afternoon sunshine but it was not all that late in the day and his absence was easily put down to him still being out visiting with Warlock Dowling. 

The train ride home to London had been pleasant enough, giving Aziraphale time to look over the book Anathema had been writing in as well as his translations. Though he had spent two nights waiting at their kitchen table for Anathema to repeat her night time wanderings, he had been relieved when she had slept through without once rising from her bed. He had kept the writings with him all the same, wariness giving him the need to study the words further even if they didn't seem to mean anything. The first night had not been so bad, Crowley choosing to stay despite there being no need for him to. He had promptly fallen asleep on the small couch in the corner but the sound of his even breathing had been a familiar comfort to the angel, his gaze often moving the sleeping black-clad form that was offset by the familiar pale coat Aziraphale had laid over him. The second night though was far longer, Crowley's absence keenly felt from the moment he had left for London. 

Aziraphale contented himself that they were now both in the same city and, once Crowley returned from his visit, they would have the evening together and the days that followed. He set the notebooks down on his desk, heading towards the back to make a cup of tea when he heard the creak of a floorboard above his head. He knew the building and its sounds all too well and the creak was not made by settling pipes or wind in the eaves. 

With nerves still frayed from the events of the last few days, he headed to the stairs, taking them slowly and carefully even as he considered what he would do if he found someone unexpected in the rooms above. The bedroom door stood ajar, the room in familiar shadow with the curtains drawn. The figure sat on the bed was one he had only seen a handful of times since they had officially retired from the Dowling estate years before, often choosing to transform back into his preferred daily silhouette prior to returning home. 

Crowley sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped around a white handkerchief where they rested against the black pencil skirt. Red curls were pinned in a chignon, not quite as harsh as it had been in service but still neat and elegant despite the few wisps that had broken free. Aziraphale felt his heart sink at the dejected pose and he knocked gently on the door.

'Sweetheart. Are you alright?' he said, concern gripping him tighter as tearful eyes met his before being hastily wiped with the crumpled handkerchief.

'Oh, I didn't hear you come in. I planned to be out of this get up before you got home.'

'You're crying,' said Aziraphale, kicking himself for stating the obvious, 'What's the matter? What's happened?'

'The inevitable,' came the choked response, 'Sometimes I really do hate humans. They're taking him away.'

'Who?' said Aziraphale, crossing to perch on the mattress, pulling a clean handkerchief from his own pocket to replace the one being wrung between two manicured hands.

'Warlock. His father has been redeployed, back to America and they leave next week. They only told him yesterday and he's so upset. He doesn't want to go. Begged me to take him in, he begged me Aziraphale and I had to deny him. They ended up putting us in a side room in Claridges because it was distressing the other guests. They're taking my boy away.'

'Darling, I'm so sorry,' said Aziraphale, wrapping an arm around the shuddering shoulders, 'Can he not stay somewhere? Boarding school? I'll sponsor him myself, mystery benefactor and all that. Done in a snap.'

'They want him in America. He said he tried everything, he's so desperate not to go. He said... he said he may have called me Nanny for all those years but I'm the only real mother he ever had. Me? Can you even believe that?'

Aziraphale smiled sadly, pressing a kiss to the tattoo that was just visible beneath the neatly pinned curls, 'Entirely. Whenever he needed you, you were there. Even with our supposed mission in mind back then, you were gentle and kind, as you've always been with the young ones,' he said, 'Darling, I don't know what to say to make this easier for you, so you tell me what you need and I'll do whatever is in my power.'

'Oh I could ask so much of you. I could could ask you to bring him to me, let him be ours to raise but I can't. He's not mine and he should go with his parents because he's not ready for the truth about me. Not yet.'

'He's only fifteen,' said Aziraphale, 'In a few years, he'll be his own man and he may return. He has the means to contact you when he does. This isn't the end, we won't let it be the end.'

'Ever the optimist, my love. I'm sorry for getting in a state, it was just a shock. I'll sort myself and then come down. We should go out, shake off these last few days and just... I don't know... reset.'

Aziraphale frowned when there was no movement next to him, save for the same fretful wringing on the handkerchief, 'You don't have to change, you know?' he said, weighting the words carefully, 'If you're not ready to say goodbye fully. Stay this way until you're ready.'

Piercing yellow eyes met his, love and relief shining back.

'You wouldn't mind? You're not used to me like this, not recently anyway and definitely not since the wedding.' 

Aziraphale traced the red stained lips with his thumb, the look one he remembered well but not with such closeness. He smiled fondly at the memories of the Dowling estate, of young Warlock running round the garden splitting his time between the gardener Aziraphale had played at being and the nanny he had trusted with all his youthful tales and the skirts he had held onto whenever he was afraid. 

'My beautiful darling,' he said, 'I love every part of you. The soul inside of you, whatever package you wrap it up in and if tonight and for the days to come it comforts you to stay this way then I will love you as fiercely as I love you any other time.'

Tears threatened in the serpentine eyes once more but didn't fall, instead the full red lips met Aziraphale's in a gentle, grateful kiss.

'You truly are a wonder, angel. Should I thank you?'

Aziraphale laughed, 'Perhaps not because I'll probably cry and I fear we might flood the shop. We must think of the books, dear,' he said, 'Now you mentioned earlier about heading out and shaking off the week. Shall we? Or would you prefer to stay in?'

'Out sounds good but you choose. Surprise me.'

'Then I have some phone calls to make,' said Aziraphale, stealing another kiss before getting up from the bed, 'You have two hours. Dress to impress.'


	4. From the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale takes Crowley to one of their favourite places to help ease the pain of Warlock's leaving but their evening is soon interrupted when the angel takes ill and an unnatural storm rocks London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is still enjoying the story. Just a note to say that Crowley's pronouns are deliberately she/her in this particular chapter but if I've slipped up anywhere please forgive me. If you want a look at the outfit that inspired Crowley's look no further than here http://www.catwalkyourself.com/fashion-biographies/rita-hayworth/. Also, whilst the Sky Garden is a real place I have no idea what the owner is called so I've named her solely for the purpose of the story.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review and leaves kudos so far.

Aziraphale retrieved his watch from the pocket of his waistcoat, checking the time before returning to his book. He had been quite impressed with what he had been able to achieve without the need for any miracles, an evening planned out for them that would hopefully take Crowley's mind off the sad news from Warlock. He'd had to pull in a few favours but he had made enough friends and acquaintances in London that it had taken him less the one of the two hours he had given Crowley to get everything arranged. 

Despite having everything arranged to perfection, he had not got passed the first page of the book he was reading, looking up every time he heard the squeak of a floorboard above, wondering just how Crowley would look when she came downstairs. He had grown used to the demon appearing in a masculine vessel in recent years but the feminine was not unfamiliar and not the least bit unwelcome. They were beings that defied humanity's constraints and though Aziraphale had found a form that he was more than comfortable in, Crowley on the other hand embraced all experiences that were thrown her way and Aziraphale would continue to encourage and support that especially now their lives were so deeply joined. 

He was pulled from his musings by a pointed cough from the doorway, the book falling unnoticed from his grip as he took in the sight before him. He had been prepared for the silhouette he had known in the Dowling house, perhaps dressed up a little more than what Crowley had worn as Warlock's nanny but the sight before him was so far removed that he wasn't quite sure he wasn't dreaming.

Crowley's long, slim form was artfully encased in a black satin jumpsuit, a wide belt accentuating her waist and the top two thick pieces of the same fabric crossing his chest to fasten behind his neck. A long scarlet coat dropped from shoulder to the dangerously high heels in the same colour, adding a good four inches to her height. Her hands fidgeted from the pockets of the suit, knotting in front of her before she reached up to neaten the fall of one loose russet curl.

'Too much?' asked Crowley, 'You're not about to tell me we're going to McDonalds on Tottenham Court Road are you? Angel?'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'Bloody...marvel, Crowley! I was expecting nanny and I've ended up with Rita Hayworth. You look amazing.'

'Well you did say to dress to impress. Did it work?'

'I'd say so,' said Aziraphale, getting to his feet and holding out a hand, 'Where has all this come from?'

Crowley crossed the room and took his hand, 'Here and there. What did you think was in those trunks in the spare room? They're things collected over the years but I've never had the occasion to wear them or the invitation.' 

'Open invitation, for the rest of eternity,' said Aziraphale, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, just above her wedding ring, 'You are perfection even if I'm half convinced you are not going to be able to walk far in those heels.'

'We'll just have to see won't we,' she replied, 'Now where are you taking me or is McDonalds still on the cards?'

'I'm not telling just yet,' said Aziraphale, as a horn sounded outside, 'Taxi's here.'

'Since when do we take taxis?' said Crowley, 'Bentley's outside.'

Aziraphale waved away the complaint, picking up his coat from the rack and slipping it on before he offered her his arm, 'Because I'm taking you out, meaning transportation does not fall to you and I am never, ever going to try and drive that beast of machine out there ever again. She's positively feral.'

'That's because you drive like a grandmother, my love,' said Crowley, slipping her arm through his, 'Taxi it is then. Lead the way. Can I have a clue where we're going?'

Aziraphale lead her to the door, opening it and letting her precede him outside, 'We've been there before,' he said, extinguishing the lights and locking the door behind them.

'Ritz?' said Crowley, opening the taxi door and climbing across to the farthest seat.

'Not even close,' said Aziraphale, sitting beside her before he turned his attention to the driver, 'Good evening. I believe you know our destination.'

'Yes sir,' he replied, pulling away from the kerb. 

Crowley frowned, 'Well that's not fair, I was hoping to at least get a hint.'

'Don't spoil the surprise, isn't this more fun?' said Aziraphale, 'Bit of an adventure.'

Crowley took hold of his hand, 'Of course,' she said, settling back against the seats, 'Thank you for doing this. I needed to get out of the house.'

'Just remember this is about making you feel better, not encouraging you to forget,' said Aziraphale, 'You can feel sad if you need to.'

Crowley closed the small distance between them, pressing a kiss to his lips, 'I love you, angel,' she said before she reached up and swiped at his lips with a thumb, 'Red is not your colour though. Going to have to remember that tonight.'

Her laugh was not as carefree as it had been with the children earlier but it was still far lighter than it had been in the six millennia they had been friends and it made Aziraphale glad that he had been part of making it so. He hoped one day the cares and memories of the darker past would be almost forgotten for the both of them, longing for a future of peace and comfort with love and laughter at its heart.

They passed the rest of the journey in easy conversation, Crowley occasionally trying to wheedle out more information about where they were going but Aziraphale remained elusive with the information even as they drew closer to their destination. The tall looming buildings of London were illuminated, casting glittering light over the streets, the City of London a feat of engineering and ambition that stood out in many a modern monument. It was when they passed Liverpool Street Station though that Crowley squeezed Aziraphale's hand, eyes widening with realisation.

'Sky Garden?' she asked, with a hopeful smile, before turning back to the window as though it would confirm the thought, 'Are we going to the Sky Garden? Surely you can't get a reservation that easily, not when you don't...'

'Patience, dear,' said Aziraphale, cutting her off before mentions of miracles could be made in the driver's hearing, 'All will be revealed.'

It didn't take long for them to reach Fenchurch Street, Aziraphale quickly paying the driver if only to catch up with Crowley who was already half way to the door of the building. The demon turned as the driver pulled away, catching hold of Aziraphale's hands.

'You are so unfailingly romantic, angel?' she said, 'How did you manage this?'

'Agnieska promised there would always be a table for us after that first night and she made good on that,' said Aziraphale, leading her into the building, a quick confirmation of their reservation with the concierge having them boarding the lift for the upper levels.

Stepping out they were greeted by great walls of glass, looking out over the city but it was the plants that captured Crowley's attention, hundreds upon hundreds artfully arranged in one of the highest and most expensive greenhouses in the city. The bar in the centre was busy and noisy with chatter but not overbearing, a perfect mix of life to distract them. 

'Reservation under Fell,' said Aziraphale as they reached the main entrance.

'Yes sir,' replied the young manager, 'Just this way. Everything is ready.'

Crowley took Aziraphale's arm once more as they were led to a familiar, secluded table, the plush round sofa seat allowing them to sit comfortably side by side to admire the view rather than sitting across from each other. The table was already set with champagne and platters of finger foods, the picture a familiar one after several visits to the bar.

'This is wonderful,' said Crowley when they were left alone, 'I know you said you spoke to Agnieska but I would have thought even she couldn't spirit up a table for us with only an hour's notice.'

'It's her bar,' said Aziraphale, 'And she promised me we'd always have a table here. I think she's sweet on us.'

'I'm surprised she's not here,' said Crowley, reaching for the bottle and pouring them both a glass.

'Her night off, thankfully. I would have lost you to her not only to talk plants but shoes as well,' said the angel, 'You do realise you captured the attention of most of the room when you walked in.'

Crowley smiled, 'That sounds awfully like pride in your voice, my love.'

Aziraphale took one of the glasses, 'Can you blame me? You look exquisite,' he said, touching the rim of his glass to Crowley's, 'To you, my darling.'

Crowley shook her head, 'To us,' she said, 'Thank you for bringing me here, so many good memories.'

'Our first kiss.'

'First of many,' said Crowley, 'We nearly got kicked out that first time if I remember rightly.'

'And whose fault was that?' said Aziraphale, reaching for one of the small lemon tarts on the plate before him, 'You couldn't keep quiet.'

Crowley laughed, 'Finally got the snog I'd been after for six thousand years, love, can you blame me?' she said, 'At least Agnieska came to our rescue.'

'We're lucky she likes us. She was more than happy to help me cheer you up this evening.'

'Well you can tell her it's working,' said Crowley, 'I was thinking before I came down the stairs earlier that this doesn't have to be the end. I will find a way to see Warlock, just not as often, and maybe when he's older he'll be strong enough to be told the truth. I realised as well that I hadn't asked about Tadfield. Did you find anything out?'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'Nothing. I'm hoping it was something innocent. Anathema and Newt have promised to call if anything else happens and I have the writing with me, I'll have another look at it tomorrow,' he said, 'I'm going to trust to the hope that we're safe.'

'If I have anything to say about it we will be,' said Crowley, capturing the angel's hand and holding it between her own, 'Can we put it out of our minds tonight though? I want all your attention on me.'

'Not difficult in those clothes.'

'You're enjoying this,' said Crowley, covering a small smile with her glass.

'You thought I wouldn't?' asked Aziraphale, catching the faint glint of golden eyes behind dark glasses that hinted at the worry the demon would never own to, 'Crowley, I told you back at the bookshop, I will love you however you choose to look. Your happiness is important to me and I will never stop you from being who you want to be.'

'You're the only one I feel free enough with to be like this,' said Crowley, hand shaking slightly as she pushed back a stubborn curl from her forehead, 'Hell saw me sometimes but it was always part of the job, a requirement, never just for the pleasure of it. With you I'm safe, safe to be me however I feel.'

'I want you to always feel that way and tell me if you don't. We've spent far too long hiding our true natures from others,' said Aziraphale, capturing the demon's lips in a kiss that said far more than words could.

The bottle of champagne they had begun with soon dwindled as they allowed the peace of the evening to soothe away the trials of both the passed few days and the lives they had led. As they talked, Aziraphale found his fingers winding easily into the tumbling red curls that fell on Crowley's shoulders, the demon happily preening under the touch until she realised that her glass was empty, the bottle in a similar state in its cooler. 

'Seems we're been granted a little too much privacy tonight,' she said, 'They're normally round with another before we're halfway down a bottle.'

Aziraphale nudged the languishing demon, 'Lift off me then and I'll go and order us another couple of bottles, keep us occupied.'

Crowley shook her head, sitting up, 'You stay here, still half a dozen of those petit-fours left that I know you've had your eye on. Indulge a little and I'll get the drinks.'

'You just want an excuse to flirt with the foliage in the garden,' said Aziraphale, reaching for one of the delicate pastries on the table.

'I don't flirt, darling, I dominate,' replied Crowley, getting to her feet before she leaned down to kiss him, 'I won't be long.'

Aziraphale waved her off with an indulgent smile, 'Take your time. I'm not going anywhere.' 

He watched her head into the crowds, heels augmenting her height so she was never far out of sight. Aziraphale thought back to the first night he had brought Crowley to the bar that would come to mean nearly as much to them as the Ritz. Nervous of what had been brewing between them for several months after the non-starter Armageddon, he had sought out somewhere that combined Crowley's love of plants with the romance the angel was hoping to encourage, grateful when several of his London connections gave him the recommendation. Crowley had been enamoured with the plants almost immediately but, despite his fascination, had settled with Aziraphale at what would fast become their customary table to enjoy the views over London. The angel's nerves had melted away with the first glass of wine when long fingers had sought his on the table top, the grip hesitant but asking so much. There hadn't been any words, no grand declarations. All it had taken was for the angel to turn to his companion of six millennia and fall into the kiss that had been wanted and promised for so long. 

Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat as he remembered the aftermath, one kiss easily becoming two, then three before the numbers were forgotten and they were only roused from each other by an indulgent if somewhat embarrassed manageress who would swiftly become a friend to them both. The angel shook off the memory as he felt the blush heat up a little more but it did little to alleviate it, the heat refusing to abate and he pressed the cool champagne glass to his cheek. The room seemed to swim a little and he screwed his eyes shut, cursing the topsy-turvy days that were leaving him vulnerable to the alcohol. The room steadied as he opened his eyes, the heat receding from his cheeks but he shifted in his chair, the uncomfortable itch between his shoulders reminding him of the wings he kept hidden that seemed keen on breaking free. 

The feeling fled as quickly as it had come as a bottle was set none too gently down on the table before Crowley flopped back down into the chair next to him, cursing brilliantly as the movement caught the long scarlet coat she wore, forcing her to fidget until she was comfortable. 

'Human men!' she said with a shudder, 'Vile creatures.'

'Vast generalisation, dear,' said Aziraphale, taking in her dark expression, 'Whatever is the matter?'

Crowley pushed up her dark glasses to rub at her golden eyes before she sighed, 'Nothing. Truly. Just glad he picked on me rather than some other woman,' she said, before retrieving the bottle and refilling their glasses, 'I had a lovely time encouraging a slightly lacklustre fern to perhaps attempt to keep up the appearance of the place and then went to the bar only to have some poor excuse for a male decide he would inform me just what he wanted to do to me as he tried to put a new crease in my jacket. Needless to say I informed him that I had a husband more than capable of fulfilling those needs and left him to his friends.'

Aziraphale felt a frisson of anger sweep through him but it was swiftly replaced by confusion, 'Rather tame response from you, Crowley dear,' he said, 'Whilst I appreciate you kept the peace, I can't help be surprised.'

A wicked grin slowly curled Crowley's red lips, 'When you say tame... let's just say the next time he heads off to the little pricks' room, he may find something shrivelled and dead. Enough that he can't bother anyone else for a good couple of months and even when that predicament is resolved, things may itch in a way that even the best penicillin can't touch.'

'There's my demon,' said Aziraphale, reaching for his refilled glass, his fingers fumbling the grip and sending it spilling over the tablecloth. 

'Easy there, angel,' laughed Crowley, reaching forward and picking up the glass before her eyes fell on the angel's trembling hand, 'Aziraphale?'

Aziraphale snatched his hand the his chest, covering it with the other in an attempt to still it, 'I don't...maybe I've had too much champagne.'

'One bottle between us isn't enough to have you trembling,' said Crowley, covering his hands with her own as they stilled, 'What's got you so jumpy?'

'It's been a trying few days,' said Aziraphale, 'You were right the other night, I'm tired. Perhaps I'll give in to temptation and actually sleep tonight, I feel like I could.'

'We can go home now, if you'd rather,' said Crowley, 'I'm more than happy to spend the rest of tonight curled up in our bed.'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'I'm fine, honestly. Besides, you've had to face wandering hands to fetch us champagne so the least we can do is enjoy it,' he said, refilling the glass, before he met Crowley's concerned gaze over the top of her dark glasses, 'I'm fine, darling.'

Crowley looked unconvinced but relented as Aziraphale wrapped an arm around her, laying her head on his shoulder as they turned their attention back to the view, 'Just tell me if you want to go home.'

'You know I will,' said Aziraphale, forcing himself to remain still even as the odd itch between his shoulder blades threatened once more. 

Before he could give it much more thought, the vast glass windows before them lit up with a flash of lightning, the thunder following swiftly. 

'Beautiful,' said Crowley, 'I love a good storm. Did you even arrange the atmospherics?'

The lightning came again, bringing with it the same heady flush Aziraphale had felt before, his wings almost trying to force themselves into reality.

'Crowley...' he managed before the thunder roared overhead, but it was enough to rouse the demon.

'Angel?'

'My wings,' he whispered, letting go of her to place his hands against his burning cheeks, 'I can't...I feel so strange. I can't control them.'

Crowley placed a hand on his back as though will alone could prevent them from manifesting, 'We need to get away from the people,' she said, 'Can you walk?'

Aziraphale nodded but was grateful for Crowley's hands as they steadied him, the two of them leaving the table just as lightning struck once more, killing the power in the room and across the view of London. The confusion was enough to allow them to slip unnoticed out a fire door and onto the terrace outside, the rain already soaking the floor. Crowley ducked them out of sight from the windows, barely getting herself clear before brilliant white wings forced themselves into reality. Aziraphale relying on the wall to keep himself upright.

'Angel, what's happening?' she said over the storm, 'What can I do?'

'I don't know,' said Aziraphale, 'I don't know what this is. It's like fear, like I need to fight but I don't know what. Danger. It feels like danger.' 

'Whatever comes, I'm here with you, ok?' said Crowley, looking round for any assailant of Heaven or Hell that might come upon them, 'I'll protect you.'

'Crowley, I'm scared.'

'I'm here, I'm here,' she said, crossing the small distance between them, grateful for the shelter the wings gave them from the rain despite the worry they caused, 'Stay calm.'

The lightning and the thunder hit simultaneously, arching down in a fork that struck not far from the building, an alarm sounding in the distance. The rain quickly abated, the black clouds rolling back to reveal the night sky once more. 

'That's not normal,' said Crowley before she took the angel's face in her hands, 'Ok?' 

He nodded, grateful for the grounding touch as he recovered himself, wings disappearing back into the ether, 'I'm alright but I've no idea what that was. I've never felt that way before. I couldn't control it. Last time I felt like that was when Satan... Crowley something's coming. I felt it.'

'Then whatever it is, we'll face it,' she said, 'But first, let's get you home. Just in case.'

A click of her fingers had their clothes dry, the pair of them slipping back into the bar just as the power turned itself back on. The air was thick with the nervous tension any change to normality brought forth in humans and it only compounded Crowley's worry as she kept a tight hold on her husband's arm, hurrying him towards the bar and waving away his distracted protest as she hurriedly settled their bill, the both of them having promised after their first visit that Agnieska and her staff would always be paid properly. 

A call preceded them down to the ground floor, the lifts thankfully working again, and a taxi was already drawn up as they exited. Crowley gave the address of a shop two streets away from their home, old habits coming to the fore when no one was easily trusted with information before she closed the window between them and the driver's cab and turned her attention back to the angel beside her. 

'How are you feeling?'

'Better,' said Aziraphale, 'Whatever it was is receding. My head aches though, I feel like I've been through a battle.'

'We'll be home soon,' said Crowley, encouraging his head onto her shoulder, 'Knew we should have brought the Bentley.'

'Your driving would do nothing for my headache,' said Aziraphale, 'This is not how I planned to end this evening.'

'Whenever have our plans gone the way we wanted them to?' said Crowley, 'You need to straighten out a couple your feathers though, love. Unexpected or not, you need to take better care of your wings.' 

Aziraphale managed a weak laugh, 'You just like pulling out the old ones,' he said, closing his eyes, 'Tell me when we're home.'

Crowley drew random patterns against the sleeve of Aziraphale's jacket as the wound their way through the streets, pressing down her own anxiety even as she peered out into the night in search of familiar but unwanted faces. The finally pulled up outside the darkened shop that she had given as their address, barely exchanging a word with the driver as she paid the fare, gently rousing the angel in her arms. The chilly air chased away the lingering effects of the alcohol as they began the short walk home, Aziraphale a little steadier than he had been when they had left Fenchurch but Crowley still kept a firm hold on his arm. 

The rounded the corner to the bookshop, both of them stumbling to a halt as they noticed the figure laid out on the steps to the front door. Crowley cursed the fact that she had relaxed her grip as Aziraphale quickly crossed the distance to the rain soaked figure, kneeling down beside them to better check their condition. 

The figure lay at an awkward angle, pale clothes tattered and mud spattered, darkened with the rain and a deeper stain that spread across their back. Long, dark hair spilled over their shoulders, obscuring their face.

'Poor soul,' said Aziraphale, reaching out a hand to their shoulder but snatching his fingers back before they made contact, 'It can't...'

'What?' said Crowley, eyes whipping between the unconscious figure and their surroundings, 'Look if it's some drunk miracle them to a hospital and let the humans deal with it.'

'An angel,' said Aziraphale, hands gently taking hold of the limp form, his hands immediately stained with blood even as he turned them to reveal their face, 'Michael. It's Michael.'

Crowley grabbed hold of her husband's sleeve, trying to pull him away but Aziraphale refused to budge, 'Angel step away from her. You don't know what's going on.'

'She's hurt, badly,' said Aziraphale, 'I can feel the pain in her. Help me get her into the shop.'

'What! You're joking, please tell me you're joking,' said Crowley, 'This is Michael we're talking about. Michael who terrorised you for millennia and was more than happy to see me disintegrated by holy water and you are talking about letting her into our home.'

'She's hurt Crowley.'

'Bad luck for her then,' she hissed, 'What do you stand to gain by helping her? If this is some misplaced sense of loyalty...'

'I have no loyalty to heaven, not any more, you know that Crowley but please don't ask me to turn away someone in need. I might not be part of heaven but I'm still an angel, still an agent for good and I can't leave her to suffer. I won't ask you to help me and I won't ask for your approval. All I ask is that you don't hinder me in helping her,' said Aziraphale, his hands trying to find purchase to lift the unconscious angel without aggravating her wounds, 'Her wings...someone has taken her wings.'

The words were spoken so sadly that, despite her better judgement, Crowley bent down and picked up Michael, careful not to disturb the wounds already bleeding through the clothes on her back, 'Get the door,' she said, 'We can't do anything for her out here. Just pray to whoever is listening and might be on our side that this isn't a trap.'

'Thank you, my love,' said Aziraphale, breaking his own self imposed rule and opening the doors with a snap of his fingers.

'Don't thank me for this, angel,' said Crowley, carrying Michael inside, 'This is going to be nothing but trouble.'


	5. Michael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale helps Michael and begins to make connections between what is happening. When Michael wakes though she tells them a story far worse than anything they imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this one grew its own legs. I chopped the chapter this was meant to be in two so the rest to come in chapter 6 as I wanted to give Michael time to tell her story.   
> A few notes/warnings. Some minor descriptions of violence in this chapter and bad language. Also please note that Crowley begins the chapter with she/her pronouns and ends with he/his - hopefully I've not messed up anywhere but forgive me if I have.   
> I'd love to hear your thoughts. Chapter 6 shouldn't be too far behind.

Crowley stood at the end of the bed, watching as the angel who had not performed a miracle in anything less than dire need in the last three years used the powers Heaven had gifted him to heal as best he could the bloody and ragged wounds on Michael's back. It had taken more strength than either of them would have anticipated to view the site where her wings had clearly been forcibly ripped from her body, shards of bone protruding from the flesh with one or two snowy white feathers stuck to the congealing blood. The tears were merciless, brutal, and even Crowley found herself glad that the Archangel was unconscious and hopefully not aware of the pain. It was the work of several hours to heal her until Aziraphale finally miracled pristine white bandages around her to better shield the wounds. With gentle care he pressed a hand to her forehead, easing the suffering until she fell into a deep and restful repose. 

'She'll sleep until morning,' he said looking down at his hands before worrying them together at the sight of the blood on them, 'Who could have done this?'

Crowley shook her head, 'I don't know, someone strong though, you don't just tear off wings like that,' he said, 'Even a demon...even a hoard of demons wouldn't have the strength to do that to any Archangel, let alone Michael. She's not Fallen though, even this far from Hell I'd know, I'd be able to sense it. She's not a demon but something tells me she's lost a little of Heaven too.'

'Could this be what I was sensing earlier? My wings, her wings? I felt like I should be fighting something,' said Aziraphale with a shudder, 'I need to get her blood off me before I can do anything else though. Will you watch her for a moment? I can't just miracle it away.'

Crowley nodded, 'I understand. Are you alright?'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'Not really, no. Oh Crowley, it's so cruel.'

'Come here,' said Crowley, opening her arms and enfolding him the moment he stepped into them, 'You've done what you can, now take care of you. I want you to rest too. Go clean up. I can change in here if she's going to be sleeping.'

Aziraphale stepped back, blue eyes wet with tears as he frowned, 'When you say change?'

Crowley smiled sadly, 'If I'm facing a fight I'm not doing it in heels and a skirt. Anathema's the only Wonder Woman in our strange little family. Besides, this is for you, no one else.'

'Can I make one request?' said Aziraphale, resisting the urge to touch the russet curls with his stained hands, 'Longer hair, like it was when Adam and Warlock were born. I realised tonight how much I missed it.'

Crowley nodded, 'Go straighten yourself out, leave anything that's marked and I'll sort it later if you don't want to deal with it.'

Aziraphale left the room, hovering at the door for a second but he didn't look back at the bed or the injured occupant there. Crowley waited until she heard the water turn on in the bathroom before she headed to the chest of drawers and retrieved a familiar pair of dark jeans and a plain black top, wanting nothing more than to change into something more restful but feeling the need to be ready for anything. She removed the dark glasses, setting them on the dresser top, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the lamplight of the room. She kicked the scarlet stilettos into the corner, before shrugging off the long jacket, a click of her fingers returning it to the confines of the trunks in their spare room. She could easily have done the same with the remainder of her clothes but it felt like a disservice to the person she had allowed to the fore that evening to end it all with a simple miracle. 

Conscious of Michael's presence, despite Aziraphale's insistence that she would sleep until morning, Crowley slipped behind the ornate dressing screen that the angel had insisted upon being in the room when their relationship was new and he had been shy of being too bared in front of the demon. It hadn't taken too long for Crowley to persuade him that it was unnecessary but it had still remained, promoted to an over-glorified clotheshorse. 

She took a last look in the long Victorian mirror at the figure she had finally been able to enjoy without it being part of a temptation before a wave of her hand darkened the glass. Whilst she removed the black satin suit the human way, the physical transformation was handled by magic and Crowley lamented the night lost, wondering if Aziraphale would ever have the chance to look favourably on the same figure again. 

Shaking off the dark thoughts, Crowley quickly dressed in the more familiar clothes, easily returning to a form the world knew better although he kept his hair long, waves of red rather than the curls that had framed his face moments before. He stepped out from behind the screen, leaving the satin suit hung over the back of it. Frowning at the Archangel unconscious in the bed, he opened the trunk at the foot of it, pulling out the extra pillows and blankets he had insisted on housing there for the colder winter nights. He piled them into a makeshift bed beneath the window, hoping to encourage Aziraphale to rest if not sleep if Michael would not be roused until morning. 

He sat down on the trunk when he had finished, idly twisting his wedding ring around his finger as he waited for the angel to return. Finally, footsteps echoed along the corridor, Aziraphale appearing in the doorway, clothes changed from their night out but replaced with a similar silhouette, pale trousers and a robin's egg blue shirt, covered with a pale cardigan. Comfort clothes, Crowley realised, but still easily put to more familiar rights if needed in a hurry. 

The angel stopped in the doorway, running his eyes over the more familiar form of his husband with a small, sad smile, 'The hair suits you,' he said, 'How are you feeling?'

'Shouldn't I be asking you that?' said Crowley, holding out a hand, glad when it was taken without hesitation. 

'I've been better,' said Aziraphale, his free hand coming up to card through the freshly styled strands of red hair before he leaned down to kiss him, 'I feel drained. I'm not used to doing miracles any more. Thank you for helping me.'

'I didn't do anything.'

'You were here and you didn't stop me from helping her,' said Aziraphale, 'I understand your reasons to be wary and I wouldn't have invited this but I couldn't have left her.'

'I know, angel, and I'm sorry I snapped earlier. I just don't want any of them anywhere near us but seeing the state of her, I'm glad you fought me.'

Aziraphale smiled, 'I'd hardly call it a fight,' he said around a yawn, 'A minor disagreement at best.'

'Please rest now,' said Crowley, 'You'll be no use to anyone if you don't rest.'

Aziraphale nodded, 'I need to but don't let me sleep,' he said, tugging on Crowley's hair gently as he frowned, 'I mean it, love. I'll rest but I can't risk sleeping, you know it leaves me out of sorts when I do.'

'Alright,' said the demon, 'But at least lie down, I did what I could by the window given that we've lost our bed for the night.'

'We've both slept on worse,' said Aziraphale, helping the demon to his feet and over to the makeshift bed.

He fussed with the pillows, ignoring Crowley's protests as he arranged them so he could sit up against the wall rather than lie down fully. The demon on the other hand was not so inclined and curled himself up on the floor beside the angel, his head resting in his lap with the blankets drawn over them both. Fingers found their way back into his hair and he was glad he had agreed to keep it long if only for the fact that it seemed to encourage the angel to pet it even more than he usually did. He felt a change in the pace of the touch as Aziraphale almost absently began to braid a few strands behind his ear. The touch was hypnotic and, despite his better judgement, he felt his own fatigue pricking at his senses as he let his eyes fall shut. 

He had fallen into a light doze when Aziraphale's fingers finally stilled and he wondered if the angel had actually succumbed to the rest he sorely needed but the thought lasted only a moment before he was forcibly rolled off the pillow of Aziraphale's thighs and onto the remainder of the blanket nest he had created.

'Fuck!' was the only word to leave the angel's lips as he got to his feet and ran to the bedroom door.

Crowley fought his way out of the knot of blankets, struggling to stand himself, 'What?' he said, hurrying to the door as Aziraphale headed for the stairs, shouting down after him, 'Angel, what on Earth is happening? There are only two reasons you say fuck, a good one and a bad one, and considering that neither of us are currently naked I'm going with bad. What is happening?

'Thinking, hush!' came the retort from the rooms below, 'Don't leave Michael.'

'Don't leave Michael,' the demon mimicked, turning to the bed, 'You hear that? Don't leave Michael. If bloody Michael had sodded off elsewhere, tonight was going to end with the good kind of fuck but I now I get the bad kind.'

'Darling, you know she can't hear you right now,' said Aziraphale, stepping back through the door with Anathema's book in his hand alongside his translations.

Crowley sniffed haughtily, 'You never know with that lot,' he said, 'What's with the book?'

'I think I've figured it out,' said Aziraphale, sitting back down on the blankets and opening the books, 'Some of the phrases I couldn't work out and I think they're nonsense ones, this wasn't a conscious effort on Anathema's part but the phrases I could translate have marks by the original text she wrote.'

'Meaning?'

Aziraphale pointed to the ancient phrases and the little tally like marks next to them, counting them off, 'One, two, three and so on,' he said, 'They never repeat. Now look at the translations in that numeric order. One, the child shall depart from the mother. You lost Warlock tonight, my love, a child who told you he saw you as his mother. Two, the tallest tress will shudder in the dark and rain. Tallest could be highest though, my translation isn't perfect and tonight we were amongst the highest trees in London and then...'

'Storm,' finished Crowley, 'Definite bad fuck.'

'Indeed and there's more. Three, lightning shall bear wings. My wings in the storm, I couldn't control them. Four, the flightless bird shall lie amongst the leaves. Michael, she's flightless and the leaves could be here, the leaves between the pages of a book.'

Crowley shook his head, 'That last one's a bit iffy isn't it?' 

'Maybe but given the others,' said Aziraphale, 'I can't help but think they're genuine.'

'Are there any more?'

'I worked out thirteen full translations in total, all of which bear the marks.'

'Unlucky for some,' said Crowley, striving for mirth but failing, 'Anything else?'

Aziraphale shrugged, 'Nothing I can match to events so far. Number five says he will return in true form to the scene of his deception. Make of that what you will.'

'Damn it all,' said Crowley, 'What's going on?'

'I don't know, darling, perhaps Michael can enlighten us when she wakes. We should speak to Anathema first thing though, I don't want to worry her unduly in her condition but she has the right to know about her powers. I do not think she will take kindly to the knowledge but it should be hers all the same. I won't work in deceptions and half deeds, not with our friends. Best to speak to Adam too, just to have on guard and the Shadwells, though they've kept well clear since they were still part of events and if anything of this is down to revenge for that, they have a right to know and protect themselves as best they can. I can't watch any of our friends suffer for this.'

'We'll warn them as soon as it's morning,' said Crowley, taking the angel's face in his hands, 'And remember we're in this together now, our side. We're facing whatever this is as a team. You and me, love. Ok?'

Aziraphale nodded, 'Together. Promise me that won't change.'

'Never,' said the demon, 'I swore myself to you long before our wedding, long before we called this love and I've never broken it. I never will. I love you and I'm with you, angel, to whatever end.'

'Don't...don't say end. I can't bear the word,' said Aziraphale, 'Give me your wings, darling. After everything that's happened tonight I need to know they're there.'

With a moment's thought Crowley unfolded his jet black wings, pulling the angel into his arms before he sheltered them both within the dark feathers. They stayed wrapped around each other until Crowley guided them back to the makeshift bed beneath the window just as the night was at its darkest outside. Though silence reigned, neither of them found any rest. Whilst Crowley tried to get the angel to remain at his side, Aziraphale was soon given over to pacing the rug at the foot of the bed, the both of them sensitive to any movement from the bed in the hope that Michael would wake with answers. 

Crowley cursed the sun as it finally rose, sneaking beneath the curtains and illuminating the ramshackle collection of pillows he had made his bed. With no chance of sleep or rest, he got to his feet and began folding the blankets into something that resembled order. It was only as he reached for one that was closest to the bed that he saw the fluttering of Michael's eyelashes against her cheeks in the moment before she opened her eyes, regarding him quizzically for a moment.

'Br...brother?' she murmured before her eyes fell shut once more.

'She's after you then,' he said, snatching the blanket from the floor as Aziraphale ceased his pacing at the sound of her voice.

'Hardly,' replied the angel, moving to the side of the bed, 'I don't think she'd ever call me...'

The scream was enough to shake the walls around them, inhuman and desperate in its agony. Aziraphale quickly took hold of Michael's shoulders as she flailed in the bed, tearing at the bandages that covered her wounds. Crowley turned his eyes away from the light that seemed to flow from Aziraphale's hands as he spoke calmly to her, Michael slowly quieting into sobs.

'My wings,' she cried, 'They took my wings, threw us down.'

'Us?' said Aziraphale, 'Michael, who else? We only found you. You're safe now though, I promise, we mean no harm to you. We only want to help you. What happened to you?'

Michael shook her head, tears threatening once more, 'It hurts. My wings and if I talk... Aziraphale forgive me. I did all I could.'

'Is she quite with it, angel?' said Crowley, moving to stand beside him.

'Demon,' snapped Michael, before she cried out, the bandages on her back staining red as wings that were no longer there tried to flare.

'Yeah, got a name and you know it,' sneered Crowley, ignoring Aziraphale's annoyed tut as he tried to calm the Archangel once more.

'Michael, you need to stay calm,' he said gently, 'I've done what I can for you but I can't heal everything. Please, Crowley won't hurt you, you aren't at risk from him or me. You are our guest and, despite everything that has passed between us, that brings you under our protection for as long as you need it. Now I don't wish to press you but things are happening and I need to know what happened to you. Who did this to you and who else has been hurt?'

Michael shook her head frantically, tears spilling over pale cheeks as she bit her lip, 'I can't.'

'Oh dammit, angel, this is getting us nowhere,' snapped Crowley, slamming his hand on the night stand, 'Listen white wings, we found your sorry arse on our doorsteps after four years of none of you lot showing your faces and you look like shit. Now either you deserved this or you didn't but I want to know because if you are even sniff of a risk to us I will drag you from our home and leave you to whatever is coming for you. Now talk or out, understand?'

'Crowley, please...' said Aziraphale, 'This is hardly helping. Be gentle.'

'Be gentle? To her? The Archangel Michael who was last spotted in Hell with a vat of Holy Water to disintegrate me? Oh of course, angel quite forgot. Whilst I'm at it shall I invite Uriel, Gabriel and, just for the party, Sandalphon...'

Michael's yelp was enough to still Crowley's protest, the tears falling from her eyes no longer from pain but from fear, 'Please don't say that name. Don't say any of them.'

'Why?' said Aziraphale, 'Were they hurt? Did something happen to them? Michael please, tell me what's wrong.'

'She's gone,' said Michael, 'She's gone and they did it.'

Crowley rolled his eyes, 'Riddles again.'

'Shut up, just shut up,' said Michael, 'Soulless, Fallen creature that you are, you couldn't possibly understand. They threw her down, they rebelled and threw her down.'

'Who?' said Aziraphale.

'God,' said Michael, 'Gabriel and the others, they rebelled and threw Her down.'

'Oh bollocks,' said Crowley, 'She's playing some sort of game. God doesn't get thrown out of Heaven, she throws you out. If Lucifer couldn't mount a successful rebellion then that pampered peacock Gabriel certainly couldn't.'

'You don't know him,' said Michael, 'Aziraphale, you know me, I don't lie. I can't lie, I'm an angel...I was an angel. Gabriel has overcome God and cast Her from Heaven. He's in charge now.'

Aziraphale looked to his husband who merely shrugged and stalked over to the far side of the room, retrieving his glasses before leaning against the dresser, 'I've never known you to lie, Michael, that much is true,' he said, turning his attention back to the Archangel, 'But you're asking me to believe the Almighty has been bested by an angel and I don't know if I can. The world is still turning, we still live. If God is gone, how is any of this working?'

'Because he kept Her alive but removed her from Heaven,' said Michael, her voice catching on the words.

'Aziraphale, don't fall for this,' said Crowley, 'Don't trust her. God cannot be just removed from Heaven.'

Aziraphale sighed, 'Tell me from the beginning exactly what happened,' he said, holding up a hand to silence Crowley's protests, 'Once we have heard it all, then we will see. Michael, tell me and speak plainly. I'm listening.'

Michael worried her hands in her lap before she took a shuddering breath, 'It all started after the punishments we had decided upon for you both did not go off as planned. Everything in Heaven was in uproar, Armageddon over before it had begun, the war not fought and an angel impervious to Hellfire was walking the Earth. Gabriel did everything he could to keep order, mainly through Sandalphon and Uriel. He was harsh but order needed to be kept. Things seemed to settle but God refused to speak to him about everything that happened. She gave us nothing as to why things had gone the way they did. All we knew was you two were not to be touched and it seemed to be accepted as such and then...'

'Then?' said Aziraphale, covering her hands with his own until she shook him off.

'You had to go too far,' said Michael, 'Bad enough you had defied the Great Plan but then you chose to desecrate one of Her most sacred rites. An angel cannot marry. An angel's love should be only for God and Her creations but there you stood and claimed matrimony with a demon.'

Crowley snorted, 'Oh here we go. I wondered how long it would take until this was our fault.'

'Crowley, please,' said Aziraphale, blue eyes pained but pleading as he met the covered ones, 'Michael, please continue.'

'The whole of Heaven knew you were claiming marriage moments after it occurred and we all waited for Her reaction. She didn't condemn you. She didn't say a word and for Gabriel it was too much. I thought he would orchestrate his own Fall, he protested so much, questioned Her so much but She did nothing, said nothing. She should have said something. Even just told him that you were to be left alone. An answer would have been better than Her silence. He was so angry and he has so much power. He started to talk, started to say that God no longer had control, that She was ceding power to Hell in not calling you back into line. They listened. Some willingly, some not so but he has Sandalphon and you do not... he does much in the name of righteousness. There was unrest, discontent but it seemed to suit Gabriel. He told me that we had to help settle Heaven, to bring everything back into order and the only way would be to take power from God Herself. I thought him a fool and told him as much but he was so sure and it scared me. Until then I had followed him entirely but I could not... would not... I was created to serve God. I was Her warrior, Her guard. I went to Her, stood in her Presence and begged Her to counter him. She stood before me, She became physically manifest. I had forgotten just how beautiful She truly is. It diminishes Her though, to appear as lowly as us and it was the moment Gabriel needed. He sent out the word that God had lost Her power and his poison had spread through them all, they rallied to him not to Her. He told Her she needed to condemn you and there She refused. It was enough. They turned from Her and the loss of faith was absolute. Gabriel tried to expel Her from Heaven though he did not have the power to force Her to Fall. I stood against him, I did what I was created to do and protected Her. My punishment you've already seen, courtesy of Sandalphon and he was not quick in its execution. They made Her watch, Her power so diminished by their abandonment that She could not save me. When they were done, they threw us down. I held onto Her, tried to keep Her with me but I... I lost Her as I fell.'

'Yeah, that happens,' said Crowley, though there was no taunting in his tone.

'Now Gabriel rules Heaven and he will move against humanity and you both once he has established his command. He will punish everything he believes to be sin. He has forsaken God for his own glory.'

'The child shall depart from the mother,' said Crowley, 'I don't think that one was about Warlock and I any more, my love.'

'No indeed,' said Aziraphale, his voice strained, 'I so want to disbelieve. I so want this to be a lie but I... can God really be cast out of Heaven?'

Michael nodded, 'I wish it were not so but I swear all I've told you is true. I came to you with the last of my strength because if anyone can counter this, then it must be you. There has to be a reason She will not condemn you,' she said, taking hold of Aziraphale's hands and pressing her forehead too them, 'I have no right to ask you but I beg you both to help Her. Help restore Her to Her power or else I am terrified of what will happen. Gabriel does not represent the Heaven I know. I will do whatever it takes, I will lay myself down at your feet and beg if I must. I will let you take whatever revenge you wish to visit on me for all that happened to you but I beg you to help Her. Hurt me but help Her.'

'You really don't know either of us, do you?' said Crowley, 'Me, I understand you could think me capable of anything but you sit there in front of probably the best of all the angels God ever created and you ask him to hurt you in return for helping Her. If you're from Heaven, then I'm almost grateful for Hell.'

'I would never harm you, Michael,' said Aziraphale, 'Despite all that has passed, even if you turned on me as brutally as they have turned on you, I would never harm you and that will always stand. I don't ask you to beg, or plead, my help is given because it is needed.'

'Our help,' said Crowley, eyes trained on the carpet, 'Our help, angel.'

Aziraphale smiled, 'Our help then. I will take you at your word, Michael, and believe that this has happened. If God is in need and She is no longer in Heaven, then it is up to us to find Her, fight for Her and restore Her to whatever end. I fear for far more than our safety if we do not.'

'Thank you,' said Michael, tears spilling over their joined hands, 'I was so afraid.'

'You don't need to be afraid any more,' said Aziraphale, 'At least for the moment and never from us. You will find Crowley can be accommodating when he wishes to be.'

'How I wish to be is subject to change without notice,' said the demon, 'And just to amend the statement slightly. You have no need to be afraid of me whilst I believe you to be on our side, the second I suspect otherwise, then you will be right to keep up your guard. My loyalty is not to God but to Aziraphale and to humanity. I owe nothing to Her and you need to remember that.'

Michael nodded, 'I understand,' she said before she flinched, pulling a hand away to press against her stomach, 'Hurts.'

'An injury?' said Aziraphale, 'I sensed nothing last night.'

'I don't recall being injured, feels like it's deep inside, gnawing within me,' she said.

'Humans call it hunger,' said Crowley, 'I think your little trip down may not have made you a demon but mortality is probably taking hold. Luckily it's easily fixed. I'll be downstairs.'

'I'll help you,' said Aziraphale, 'You rest, Michael, call for us if you need us. You'll need your strength if we're to plan what happens next. We won't be long.'

Crowley waited for Aziraphale to reach the door before he left his place on the dresser, placing himself between his husband and the Archangel he was not willing to trust fully regardless of whether he believed her story. They were halfway to the stairs when Aziraphale reached back for his hand, his grip painfully tight but Crowley returned it as the descended to the shop below. They did not break their silence until they were safely in the back room of the shop, the place that had been their haven against the world since Aziraphale had first bought the place.

'Crowley.'

A word, a name so quietly sobbed but it conveyed so much and the demon hurried them both the the worn couch, pulling Aziraphale into his arms moments before the tears he heard in his voice broke. He said nothing, merely holding on tightly and allowing the angel to mourn all that they had heard above. He wanted to doubt the story. He wanted to prove it some sick game but he had heard too much pain and truth in Michael's words. God was no longer in Heaven and any safety they had had was gone, evaporated like dew at sunrise. They were at the mercy of an angel who had all but relished the prospect of their destruction and stood humiliated when it had failed. 

He pressed a kiss to the blond head against his shoulder, lingering in the hope of offering some shred of comfort to the angel he knew would carry burden of what lay before them so completely even if it was not his to bear. 

'Oh my love, I'm so sorry,' he said, 'I can't imagine what this must feel like. I've been without God for so long but I know, even with everything that happened, your belief in Her never waned.'

'How do we even counter this, Crowley? Even if we knew where She was, how do we stand against Heaven? We are a demon, a principality and an Archangel that is more human than divine.'

'We sound like the start of a very bad joke,' said Crowley, the brevity he was trying for falling flat, 'And we sound very screwed. I always thought Gabriel unhinged but this. I don't know what to do.'

'Neither do I,' said Aziraphale, 'And we're running out of time.'


	6. A Meeting in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unlikely trio try to plan their next move but an unexpected visitor arrives with an invitation they cannot refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that ran away from me but I'm sure you won't mind a few extra words. Thank you to all who are reading, leaving kudos, reviewing or just enjoying the fic. I love hearing your thoughts on the story.

Crowley cursed the human need for a rush hour as he exited the small cafe across the street from the bookshop. He hadn't wanted to leave Aziraphale alone with Michael in the rooms above but a scrounge through the cupboards had come up with nothing edible and he had lamented their habit of eating out whenever they could as he was forced to head over to the cafe. A miracle could have aided them but with each costing them both energy, the decision was taken to save their strength for the bigger things. 

He pushed open the door, locking it behind him before pulling down the blind, hoping to dissuade anyone in the mood for attempting a purchase. He moved through to the back room, setting his purchases down on the table already furnished with plates and a steaming teapot. It was not the scene of domesticity, set for three rather than two, that made him pause but the angel sat on the well worn couch, a framed photograph in his hand that he studied with a frown marring his brow.

'Angel? I've got breakfast, even picked up a couple of those lemon muffins you like, thought a pick me up might help,' he said, expecting to snap him out of his reverie, 'Aziraphale?'

'I've never hated anyone,' said the angel quietly, 'Not really, well I tried not to but now... I hate him, Crowley and it makes me feel all twisted up. I hate him for what he let Sandalphon do to Michael just because she followed her calling. I hate him for what he wanted to do to me. I hate him for what he has done to God but the thing I hate the most is that he made the most beautiful day of my life into his excuse. He took our wedding day and made it his reason for his plans.'

'We were a convenient excuse,' said Crowley, taking a seat beside him, 'He didn't do this because of us, we were just a means to an end.'

He took hold of the picture in Aziraphale's hands. Despite all the photos they planned for the day they married, it had been the unguarded moment Pepper had managed to capture on the new phone she had received for her birthday that had been the best. Neither of them could remember what they had been talking about but their smiles were true and intended only for each other as they sat beside one another on a bench in Anathema's garden, hands joined with the matching golden bands, fresh and new on their fingers, glittering in the late afternoon sun. 

'He's used our love as a weapon,' said Aziraphale, sadly, 'He's taken something so pure and twisted it.'

'Because he's the twisted one,' said Crowley, 'Power mad and cruel. He doesn't understand love, he understands nothing but what Gabriel thinks is best. Don't take what he said as a judgement on us, take what wasn't said instead. You heard what Michael told us earlier, God didn't condemn us even to save herself. God stood in front of those who were losing faith and she didn't condemn us. She said nothing and in Her silence, though I have never needed it, I will find a blessing on this, on us.'

A creak from above had Aziraphale hastily wiping at his eyes before he returned the photograph to its place on the small table beside him, 'I should check on Michael,' he said, 'We need to start working out what we're going to do next.'

'I'll go,' said Crowley, 'I didn't just do battle with a bunch of humans in suits for you not to have your breakfast and you'll only start complaining. First thing's first though, it's been morning for a good few hours now and I've not yet received my kiss.'

Warm, sure lips met his in a gentle kiss that could easily have deepened if another creak from upstairs hadn't prompted them to part. Crowley was glad that Aziraphale moved to the table as he headed to the stairs, the sadness of moments before muted for a while though he knew Gabriel's actions would still weigh heavily on the angel. He headed quickly up the stairs to the bedroom, knocking only briefly on the door before stepping inside to find Michael sat up in bed, the sheets wrapped tight around her as she stared blankly towards the covered window. 

Crowley bit back the more sarcastic questions he had wanted to begin with at the sight, the once powerful Archangel reduced so much that she looked as mortal as he suspected her to be amongst the dark bedclothes, 'I got breakfast,' he said, 'You've probably never eaten before but you're going to need it now. Do you think you can get yourself downstairs? I don't do room service.'

Michael nodded, 'I just... My clothes are covered in blood and I can't... nothing's happening.'

The small wave of her hand was enough to show Crowley what wasn't working, miracles that had once come so easily stolen along with her wings. He considered calling Aziraphale but the miracles the angel had performed the night before had taxed him after so long of not using them.

'If you don't mind, I could help,' he said, 'I don't want to bother Aziraphale.'

Michael pressed herself back against the headboard but then sighed, 'I suppose we are on the same side in a way now,' she said, 'It won't hurt will it?'

Crowley shook his head, 'I don't intend to do you harm.'

'Alright,' she said, 'Just not... I don't want to look like... I can't look like me when I'm this.'

'A little more colour then,' said Crowley with a snap of his fingers, a sky blue suit, collarless, and a pale pink shirt appearing on the trunk at the foot of the bed. The lines were harsher than any heavenly attire he had seen before but the colours mimicked the softer tones Aziraphale chose, 'I'm assuming you can manage alone, if not I'll send Aziraphale up. Bathroom is down the corridor if you want to use it. We'll be downstairs.'

'I'll be fine,' said Michael, swallowing hard before she spoke again, 'Thank you, Crowley.'

'Don't thank me,' he said, 'That suit is about five years out of date.'

He didn't wait for her to respond, turning and heading back down the stairs, stealing Aziraphale's teacup as he passed the table and settled on the couch. He took a sip as the angel tutted at him before wrinkling his nose in distaste at the weakness of the brew.

'I made you a stronger cup before you start moaning,' said the angel, exchanging his cup for another, 'Is Michael awake? Does she need anything?'

'A taxi somewhere else,' said Crowley, cradling the cup of black tea in his hand, 'She's dressing. She can't perform miracles of her own at the moment so I sorted her something. Don't say a word.'

'The thought never crossed my mind, dear,' said Aziraphale, 'Is she coming down?'

'I invited her to,' said Crowley, 'If she's leaning more towards the mortal side of things she's going to need to eat. Stop it, Aziraphale.'

Aziraphale bit his lip in a vain attempt to keep the smile from his lips, 'I'm not doing a thing,' he said, neatly slicing into the sticky lemon muffin on the plate before him, 'I'm sure your reputation will survive.'

'Shut up,' said Crowley, though there was no venom in his tone, 'Or I'll start wearing my hair short again.'

'No don't,' said Aziraphale, ignoring his husband's smirk, 'I love it long. I always loved it long.'

'You just like fiddling with it,' said Crowley, flicking the small braid that still hung down behind his ear.

'I like the fact that I finally can,' said Aziraphale, dropping his fork onto the tabletop as a panicked squeak came from the floor above.

'Don't get flustered,' said Crowley, hiding a grin behind his cup, 'That sounded like shock rather than pain.'

'Well shock isn't good. Crowley, why are you laughing?'

'Because I think Michael just proved a theory and if she comes down those stairs in the next few minutes and can't look me in the eye, I'll know for sure.'

Aziraphale frowned, 'What did you do?'

'Remember the night I found that old instant camera and we decided to have some fun?' said the demon, 'One or two of the pictures might have found their way into the top drawer of my night stand when I was up there. I reckoned Michael might go snooping and I think she just has.'

'Crowley!' cried Aziraphale, hands covering his flaming cheeks, 'Oh I'll never be able to look at her again.'

'Don't panic,' laughed Crowley, 'I picked the tamest ones and they're only of me. The pictures of you and the ones of us together are strictly for my eyes only.'

'Well they better be well hidden,' huffed the angel, before he shook his head in exasperation, 'Only you could think of such things when the world is ending.'

'I'm always thinking of such things, the world ending is interrupting.'

'You're incorrigible.'

'One of the reasons you love me,' said Crowley.

'Hmm, you're lucky I do,' said Aziraphale, 'No more tricks on Michael though, she's been through enough.'

Crowley rolled his eyes, 'You spoil my fun,' he said, 'Eat your breakfast, angel.'

They fell into a comfortable silence, the morning feeling almost normal but after another fifteen minutes passed with no sign of Michael, Aziraphale began to fidget in his chair, casting glances towards the stairs every other moment. Finally he set down his fork and got to his feet, folding his napkin on the tabletop.

'I'd better check on her,' he said, heading to the stairs, 'I didn't do a very good job on her back and I'd hate for her to do herself further injury.'

'If she wants help, she'll ask for it,' said Crowley.

Aziraphale paused on the bottom step and shook his head, 'No she won't,' he said, 'Her pride won't let her. I'll be back in a little while. Will you call Anathema and the others and bring them up to speed, it should be a suitable time for them now. Mind what you say to Adam though, we don't want him having one of those outbursts he was telling you about.'

Crowley nodded, retrieving his phone from his pocket as Aziraphale headed back up the stairs. Anathema took the news with her usual poise but he heard the tremble in her voice all the same as she promised to let him no if she experienced any more prophecy-making phenomena. He had been grateful, when he had dialled the old fashioned land line moments later that it was the still somewhat newly-minted Mrs Shadwell that answered the phone rather than her curmudgeon of a husband. She had put on her best worried voice and assured Crowley that she was sure that he and dear Mr Aziraphale would no doubt handle it expertly before asking him if they had made a decision yet about coming for the following Christmas. Crowley flinched as he recalled the one Sunday dinner he and Aziraphale had braved before responding that they would give it some thought once things had settled down though angels, even ones with bookshops, were notoriously busy at that time of year. 

He felt a headache pressing behind his eyes when he finally managed to hang up the phone, and even more grateful when Adam's went to voicemail, the words he wanted to say to the boy not sounding quite right in his head so instead he left him a brief instruction to talk to Anathema and to make sure he kept an eye out for her and the others. With Aziraphale still absent and the cup in his hand stone cold he groped beneath the couch, retrieving a bottle of whisky he kept there despite Aziraphale's protests whenever he found it. He didn't bother locating a glass, drinking straight from the bottle as he leaned back against the couch. 

He was fully stretched out against the battered upholstery by the time he heard footsteps on the stairs, Aziraphale's voice gently coaxing and emerging moments later with Michael holding tightly onto his arm as she wobbled forward on unsteady feet. He stuck out a foot and pushed out a chair with as much nonchalance as he could manage but he saw the smile twitch at his husband's lips though it melted quickly to a frown as he noticed the bottle in Crowley's hand. 

'Really, dear,' said the angel, helping Michael into a chair, 'We have a rule, do we not? No self medicating past trauma before midday.'

Crowley huffed, 'It's current trauma that I'm dealing with so it doesn't stand,' he said, 'Besides, it's midday somewhere.'

'Bottle away and sober up, there's a dear,' said Aziraphale with feigned patience.

'You're a bitch when you're cranky,' said Crowley, screwing the lid back in place and rolling the bottle beneath the couch with a smirk at the eye roll it gained him.

'And you're a pain when you're anxious,' said the angel, 'Tea, Michael?'

The Archangel's face seemed unsure whether it wanted to settle into a frown or a smile as her eyes followed the exchange before settling on the teapot Aziraphale retrieved from beneath an old fashioned cosy, 'I've never tried,' she said, 'I don't know if I should.'

'It won't hurt,' said Aziraphale, 'And it might help you feel a little stronger. The croissants are always wonderful from the shop over the road as well. Try one with a little of the jam, that's the red jelly in the pot.'

It took a while for Michael to work out what went where but once she realised that nothing on the table before her could hurt her, she settled into the meal with a delicate precision. Crowley watched from the couch, absently eating the remains of one of the muffins from the small plate Aziraphale handed him alongside a fresh cup of tea. It was an odd scene, the back room of the bookshop so long their shared haven alone that to have another person there, regardless of who she was, was jarring. A subtle change in a world he had little doubt would soon swiftly be altering around them. His thoughts seemed to prompt his husband's as Aziraphale sat back in his chair worrying the edge of the tablecloth between his fingers as he studied the pattern on his empty plate.

'I hate to bring us back round to the situation at hand but we need decide what happens next,' he said, 'Gabriel won't wait long to act and I am sure all of us are on a list of people to be dealt with swiftly.'

'I don't know how we can even begin to counter him,' said Michael, 'If I had kept hold of Her... I don't know where she fell. We can do nothing without God Herself.'

'Then we make finding Her our priority,' said Aziraphale, 'She may know what we have to do. There must be a way.' 

Crowley sat up a little straighter, 'That's in your hands,' he said, 'All connection I had was severed millennia ago and I wouldn't even know where to look. We didn't exactly fall to a convenient compass point on Earth.'

'Well we can start close by and work from there,' said Aziraphale, 'Perhaps if I study the prophecies with that in mind I might find something.'

'Prophecies? What prophecies?' asked Michael.

'We know a guy,' said Crowley, 'Family has a bit of a track record. Might have something we can work with.'

Michael nodded, 'Fair enough. I appreciate you don't want to share everything with me yet but if these prophecies are something you think will help can I see them? Perhaps they will mean something to me. I don't expect you to betray the name of your human.'

'The term would be friend,' said Crowley, 'Aziraphale?'

'Information shared between us is the best option,' he said, 'One of us might spot something the other has missed. I have the translations upstairs unless you would prefer the original Aramaic, Michael?'

'English is fine,' she replied, 'It's one of the more common ones used now.'

'Here, angel,' said Crowley, a click of his fingers retrieving the papers from where they had been left upstairs.

'Thank you, dear,' said Aziraphale, shuffling through them, 'This is the one I've marked with...'

The pounding on the front door soon had Michael's cup tumbling from her hands in fright as Crowley got to his feet with a curse.

'Not what we need,' he said.

'What's the matter?' said Aziraphale, rising to his side.

'Demon,' said Crowley.

As the pounding came once more, 'I know you're in there traitor. I need a word with you so open the door.'

'Beelzebub?' said Aziraphale, 'What could she...?'

'Crowley! Don't make me wait. Your master wants a word with you and I have his full command to use any means necessary to get you to this door.'

'You can't possibly mean to answer it?' said Michael, as Crowley headed towards the front door, 'That's the prince of Hell.'

'With all the power of someone far stronger,' said Crowley, turning back briefly enough for the light to glint off the chain around his neck that was normally so well concealed from the naked eye, 'It'll be best for us all if I answer.'

Aziraphale hurried to catch up with him, clutching his sleeve, 'My shop,' he said, 'I should open the door.'

'Angel...'

'It's alright,' he said, throwing back the bolt and unlocking the door, knowing full well neither was a true deterrent to the demon outside, 'Good morning, Beelzebub.'

Beelzebub flicked her gaze over the angel before she stepped into the shop, eyes widening as she took in the sight of Michael sat primly at the table, 'Quite the angelic harem, traitor,' she said, 'I didn't realise you were collecting them.'

'What do you want?' snapped Crowley, without any pretence of genuflection that he had previously shown to the prince. 

'I've been sent to bring you in, you and your...collection,' she said, 'I had wondered what was meant when I was told to bring both the angels but now I understand.'

'Satan knows about...' began Aziraphale.

'My master knowzz all,' said Beelzebub, the fizz on the end of her words enough to demonstrate her irritation at being sent to find them, 'Your presence is ordered, now.'

Crowley crossed his arms, 'I can't refuse,' he said, 'But I want assurances if you expect Aziraphale and Michael to accompany me.'

'So it was expected,' said Beelzebub, pulling a scroll from her sleeve, 'The seal alone should be enough but you may read it.'

Crowley took the scroll tentatively, running a finger beneath the seal and unrolling the parchment. It glowed faintly in his hands as he scanned the page before he folded it small enough to fit in his jacket pocket, 'They can't travel our way,' he said, 'We'll come through the main doors.'

'You will be anticipated,' said Beelzebub, turning on a heel and heading back to the door, slamming it behind her.

'Short and not very sweet,' said Aziraphale, 'What did the letter say?'

'An assurance from my so-called master that you and Michael may pass through Hell unharmed,' said Crowley, 'He mentioned you both by name.'

'So somehow he knows I'm here,' said Michael, 'You don't think Gabriel could be working with...'

'Satan led a rebellion himself,' said Aziraphale, 'Perhaps he sought another way to overthrow the rule of Heaven. Either way we will find out. We should go, I don't doubt Beelzebub's threats.'

Crowley ran a hand absently over the exposed chain around his neck, 'Oh the threat is very real,' he said, 'I wish you didn't have to come with me but I don't think that is negotiable either.'

'Not least because I'm not going to let you walk in there alone,' said Aziraphale, taking his hand, 'I'm not afraid.'

'Well you bloody should be,' said Crowley, 'Assurances aside, I don't trust them and anyone we meet down there will be looking for a weakness. Michael, you can't let them see you're hurt, regardless of how much pain you're in you need to walk down there like you could smite them all with a thought. One sniff of the fact that you are injured and pretty notes will do nothing to protect you, even if Satan signed it.'

'I'll do what I can,' she said, fingers trembling on where they rested on the tabletop, 'What if they're working together?'

'Then we find out,' said Aziraphale, 'And we do whatever we can with whatever time we have left. We should get going.'

It was a simple matter of a miracle for Aziraphale to be dressed once more in his customary clothes, pristine and polished as he always appeared. He helped Michael to her feet, letting her lean on his arm in an effort to conserve her strength for what was coming. The Archangel looked fit to drop even before they reached the Bentley parked just outside the shop, her breathing heavy as Aziraphale eased her into the passenger seat before heading around to Crowley's door, foregoing dignity as he climbed into the back seat and away from his customary place. The demon climbed in a moment later, pausing a moment before he shifted the car into gear and pulled away. 

He kept to the speed limit, meeting Aziraphale's grateful gaze in the mirror, the angel reaching forward to place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt at comfort before a pained yelp from Michael as they struck a pothole forced him to turn his attention to her. 

'Didn't think this through,' said Crowley as they drew up to the familiar building that held the entrance to Hell, 'There's a pathway down.'

'But there's also a pathway up,' said Aziraphale, 'A little too close to Heaven for my liking and if they're watching.'

'No other way for you to get in,' said Crowley, 'You can't travel the demon way.'

'Make a run for it?' said Aziraphale, 'Michael could you manage?'

'I can run as fast as you like if it means avoiding an entanglement with them again. I was told what would happen to me if I tried to return,' she said.

Crowley growled as he stared up at the building, 'They'll have to get through us,' he said, 'I can probably give you some cover with my wings, might be enough to deflect their gaze for a few seconds and give us a chance to make the descent.'

'It's the only plan we've got,' said Aziraphale, 'You worry about Michael, I'll worry about me.'

Crowley frowned but nodded, 'Alright. I'll get out, angel you follow and keep close to me, then we'll get you Michael. As soon as you're out we'll run. Whatever happens don't stop, you'll see where you have to go and just head down. Here, take this, if you lose me at least this might offer you some protection. I've broken the seal so it shouldn't burn but I'd advise against letting it touch your skin for too long.'

He pulled the letter from his pocket, handing it to Aziraphale before he climbed out of the car. He checked around for any human eyes but something about the building kept their gaze from falling on them and he hoped his wings would go unnoticed as well. With a moment's thought, black feathers wrapped around the open door of the car and he placed a hand under Aziraphale's arm to help him out whilst keeping him under cover. He was grateful for the excuse to keep him pressed close to his side, wrapping an arm tight around his waist as they made their way round to the other side of the car.

'This is hardly dignified,' muttered the angel.

'Better than what they might do,' said Crowley, opening the passenger door and offering Michael his hand, 'Come on, you can trust me. Just don't let go and I won't let you fall.'

She hesitated for a moment before she placed her hand in his, leaning on him as he helped her from the car and beneath the shelter of his wings. They paused just long enough from Crowley to slam the door shut before they were running for the building, barely keeping their feet as they struggled not to trip over one another. Michael yelped as they hit the change in the flooring that allowed them to enter Hell, clinging on to Crowley's arm even after he had retracted his wings, content that they were far enough from Heaven's gaze. 

'Stand up straight,' hissed Crowley, shaking her off, 'No pain, no fear. You're the Archangel Michael, you are not scared, you are strong, a warrior. Don't wear what you've been through, don't let them see it. They will smell it on you unless you push it away. Stand up straight.'

She did as she was told, Aziraphale pressing a healing hand to her back, easing what he could in the hope it would help her to hide it. The descent was unpleasant but it wasn't as unpleasant as when they reached the cramped depths of Hell itself. Beelzebub met them, clearly put out about being sent to lead them to her master, but she said nothing. The other demons were not so inclined, familiar insults and threats thrown towards all three of them. 

Aziraphale repressed a shudder, remembering the taunts that were directed at him when he had descended into Hell, disguised as Crowley. He had walked out again unscathed when their deception had worked but he was unsure if he would be as lucky again. The thought forced a gasp passed his lips, Anathema's prophecies swimming in front of his mind, the next in the list of those they had been unable to fathom the brightest of all.

'He will return, in true form, to the scene of his deception,' he muttered.

Despite the almost whisper, Crowley heard him, turning his head just enough to look over at him, 'Angel?'

'Not here,' said the angel, reaching out to Michael beside him as he saw her pinched features.

She straightened her shoulders though it cost her, tears swimming in her eyes before she blinked them away, not missing a beat in their march through the damp, cramped corridors. 

Finally, they reached a door, more ornate than any of the others they had passed. Beelzebub rapped sharply on it before stepping back and allow it to swing open. She smirked cruelly as she bowed them inside.

'Your fate awaits you,' she said as they stepped into the darkness, the door slamming shut behind them.

Torches flared once the door was shut, illuminating the room. Where they had expected the figure they had encountered at the end of the Armageddon that wasn't, they were instead faced with an ornate table with places set for four, one of them occupied by what appeared to be a man though the power that surrounded him told them he was far more than he appeared. 

'I thought,' he drawled, getting to his feet, ancient black robes shot through with golden thread spilling around him, 'That it would be better to appear to you thus. Won't you take a seat. We have much to discuss.'

None of them moved, even Crowley refusing the invitation despite the pull of the chains around his neck. He had only encountered the master of Hell a handful of times but he had never seen him in the form he presented now, so much closer to the human figure God had been so proud of creating. It was disconcerting after he had prepared himself to face the same terrifying figure that had tried to intimidate Adam into obedience. 

'Did Beelzebub not present you with my promise that you would be unharmed? You have nothing to fear here at this time, even those of you who believe they have tricked Hell before. Oh yes, Aziraphale, don't think I don't know that this isn't your first visit despite never previously having an invitation. Perhaps, in view of that bravery, you will be the first to sit down. Indeed I think you may wish to, lest Michael's strength finally fails her.'

Aziraphale looked at the Archangel beside him, seeing the strain on her face as she struggled to stay upright. He moved his gaze to Crowley, seeing the small shake of his head but duty to Michael and the need to understand why they had been summoned had him reaching out to briefly squeeze his hand before he stepped up to the table. Taking the seat to the left of his host. 

'Crowley, help Michael into a chair and do not be stubborn about it, I don't not want to start this meeting with a demonstration of power.'

Crowley obeyed, taken hold of Michael's arm, feeling her body lag against him as he helped her cross the short distance to the chair opposite Aziraphale's before taking the last at the end of the table. 

Their host took his own seat, reaching up to brush back a strand of inky blue-black hair before he steepled his fingers before him, regarding them all in turn over the top, 'Nothing upon this table will harm you. I invite you to eat and drink as you please. You may also call me by the name I was once given and still claim when it suits me. For the purpose of this discussion I appear to you as Lucifer and you may call me such,' he said, his expression suddenly growing grim, 'I give you this right as at this moment in time we must stand as unlikely allies. I have been made aware of what is happening in Heaven, though I would hear more of the truth from one who was there when the pretender made his grab for the throne.'

Michael hesitated for a moment before she recounted her tale once more, her voice trembling but she kept back the tears that threatened in her eyes. Lucifer did not interrupt or question her until she reached the end of her story by recounting her awakening at the bookshop and Aziraphale's realisation that it linked to the prophecies he had translated. The revelation seemed to surprise him and he soon turned his questioning to Aziraphale who told him all that he could of what had been translated. 

'He will return, in true form, to the scene of his deception,' repeated Lucifer, with a chuckle as he fixed Aziraphale with a red tinted gaze, 'Well that would be you, would it not, young one? For you have returned to the site of one of the greatest deceptions ever managed. Was it you or Crowley who thought up your little scheme? Forgive me Michael, if I seem to speak in riddles but these two know of what I speak. You may chalk off another of your prophecies there and I think another may yet prove itself solved soon but first we must turn to the task at hand. Gabriel cannot rule Heaven, he cannot hold sway over creation. I fear for all if he is given the chance to truly realise his power. For the humans alone, Hell will feel like a reprieve for what he will visit on them. He must be stopped and order must be restored.'

'And how do we do that?' said Crowley, who had sat silently through the stories.

'We find God and we restore Her to power,' said Lucifer.

'You would restore God to Heaven?' said the demon.

Lucifer smiled, 'I surprise you,' he said, sitting back in his chair, 'Would you think me more likely to attempt Heaven myself now a lesser being is in charge? I could do it you know but I already have my kingdom.'

'You once wanted to rule Heaven,' said Michael. 

'Did I indeed?' said Lucifer, with a bitter laugh, 'Tell me, all of you, what do you remember of the Fall? Crowley, as a participant, perhaps you could begin.'

Crowley swallowed hard, reaching across the table to take hold of Aziraphale's hand, 'Pain,' he said, the words almost compelled from his lips, 'Loss.'

Lucifer shook his head, 'That was after. What of the Fall? Why did you Fall?'

'I asked questions,' said Crowley.

'What questions? You do not remember them, I know that much. You know precisely what you are meant to know. Aziraphale, your memories?'

'Oh I'm afraid mine are very shaky. Nothing truly becomes clear until I was given my role in Eden,' he said, covering Crowley's trembling grip with his other hand.

'And Michael, who was one of the first, what do you remember of that event? What do you remember of me?'

'You rebelled against God and were thrown from Heaven,' said Michael.

'And how did that occur? Why did I rebel? What, exactly, was my crime?'

'You rebelled...questioned...'

Lucifer got to his feet, 'See how little you all know. You have been raised and have lived with a story. Let me tell you a little more of what truly happened,' he said, 'I did indeed rebel against God and I did question Her, I questioned Her a great deal and others stood with me but do you truly believe that suddenly, in Heaven, half the population of angels rose up against their Lord? Why? Why then? Many of us rebelled but we rebelled for those who were destined to Fall regardless of their behaviour. There was bred a generation of angels who would be cast from the Love of Heaven and into the dark for the world, the whole of creation required balance. Dark to light, night to day, good to evil. It was necessary and as Heaven would have light, so Hell was needed for its opposite and I was always destined to be its Lord. I however went a slightly different way to how it was planned for I saw injustice and stood against it. Not quite the story you all know and that was intended too, for if you knew your brothers and sisters had always been bound for Hell, would you not have maybe continued to question when we had been cast out?'

Michael shook her head, 'This isn't true. God would not...'

'Oh God would,' said Lucifer, 'And She did. Everything was planned, even my son.'

'Adam?' said Aziraphale, 'God planned Adam?'

'Do you think I would have been given leave to create him otherwise?' said Lucifer, 'There has always been an understanding between Heaven and Hell. They do one thing, we counter. We do another, they counter us. Balance for the universe and for humankind. Adam was to be a test, a test for the nature of humankind, if he passed then we would continue the dance we have done for aeons and pass he did. His birth was mutually planned and the aftermath mutually accepted, hence why two traitors to their kind still breathe. Things were meant to continue as before but Gabriel has thrown everything out of balance and it must be restored. We must work together to find God and restore her before reality is too damaged to be saved.'

'Work with Hell?' said Michael, 'I can't...'

'What choice do we have? Heaven is closed to us and alone we are the start of a very bad joke,' said Aziraphale, echoing Crowley's words from that morning, 'We need help from somewhere and what has been said makes sense. All of it. Though I am loathed to believe She created angels only for them to become demons forced to Fall, it sounds so cruel but over the years I've seen...'

'You are in the unique position, young one, to have seen Her work on Earth in very close quarters,' said Lucifer, 'I will not force you to trust me but I can do nothing without someone connected to Heaven for though I could find God, I cannot go near Her, such is the power of the Fall. I need an angel.'

Crowley shot to his feet at the words, pulling Aziraphale to his and forcing him behind him, 'You will not use him as your pawn,' he said vehemently, his hand shaking in the angel's as he waited to be punished for his words but nothing came.

'He is no pawn, he is essential,' said Lucifer, 'As is Michael. With two we have a chance, even better with three.'

'There are no others,' said Michael, 'I was the only one who stood against Gabriel.'

'We may be able to find one or someone as good as but that involves work on our part...Crowley,' said Lucifer, hesitating over the name, 'We must speak alone. You two may wait here.'

Crowley reached up, his hand closing around his chains as his breathing grew a laboured. He nodded, despite the tightening of Aziraphale's grip on his hand, 'Yes, my Lord.'

A wave of Lucifer's hand had a door opening to the right of the table, 'Follow me,' he said, the command almost compelling Crowley to immediately move but he held his ground for a moment.

'Angel,' he said, turning to face Aziraphale and pulling him into a firm embrace, dropping his voice to a whisper in his ear, 'Whatever happens, get yourself out of here. Don't come for me. If anything happens, run. No arguments. I love you.'

He silenced any protest with a kiss, caring nothing for the others in the room. The moment he released the angel's lips he turned and headed swiftly for the door, bypassing Lucifer who followed him without a word, closing the door on Michael and Aziraphale. 

Crowley flinched as he heard the door lock, keeping his back to his master as the pressure of his chains lessened. The room was sparse, nothing but black walls, the only light coming from pale, lifeless candles that hung from aged fixings on the wall. An ancient Hell instead of the more familiar surroundings Crowley had known. 

'You will return to him,' said Lucifer at his back, 'You do not believe a word I say but I have not lied to you.'

Crowley remained silent, waiting for command or compulsion from the Fallen angel who held his fate in his hands. Instead he flinched as cold fingers closed over his shoulder, the grip not tight but firm enough to prompt him to turn.

'You look on me as a stranger,' said Lucifer, 'And that is my doing, for we once knew each other. You and I were once friends.'

'I recall an acquaintance,' said Crowley, keeping his tone as neutral as he could, 'That's why I'm here, unless of course I was one of your fictional, destined to Fall angels.'

Lucifer laughed though their was no humour in the tone, 'Oh no, my brother, you were never destined for Hell, you chose it, and the final act of mercy I ever performed was to make you forget why,' he said, 'But now, I need what you were to combine with what you are if we have any hope of winning this fight because it is a fight and your happy little life that you have fought so hard for is teetering on the brink of destruction. I took your memories but I can give them back to you if you let me. I can break the chains that bind you and restore you to your name and all you knew but there is a price and it is pain, not just in process but in the remembering as well. I would have your consent.'

'And if I do not give it?' said Crowley.

'Then Aziraphale dies. Not by my hand, I will not harm him but they will. Gabriel will because in Aziraphale he sees all that he hates. I don't ask you to do this for Heaven, for God, for the world. I ask you to think of him because believe me, I know you will fight for him.'

Crowley rubbed a fist against his stomach, forcing away the nausea his vessel had no business feeling but it refused to leave him as he met the fiery eyes of his master, 'You could force me.'

Lucifer nodded, 'I could and I will, if I must,' he said, reaching up without warning and removing Crowley's dark glasses, snagging several strands of hair as he did so, 'But when you remember, you will know why I do not wish to, so consent and let this be done. I am yet your master.'

'Do it,' said Crowley, no longer suppressing the defiance in his tone, 'For him alone. For Aziraphale alone though damn you for using him to manipulate me. Give me my wretched name and whatever memories you stole and then let me back to him.'

'Kneel. You will want to be closer to the floor,' said Lucifer, 'This will hurt.'

Crowley complied, hating the position but he kept his eyes on his master, forcing his breathing into a regular pattern even as panic took him. A cold hand pressed to his forehead, the icy grip making him shudder as Lucifer spoke above him though his voice was broken.

'I can only ask that you forgive this one day, my brother,' he said, 'Forgive me, Raphael.'

The name fell from his lips just as the pain seized through Crowley's mind, memories that had only been snatches in dreams rushing to him in seconds. It was too much, too painful and Crowley was only grateful for the floor beneath him as he hit it with a scream.


	7. Paradise Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what did Crowley see when Lucifer returned his memories? Raphael was one of the highest in Heaven, blessed to walk at God's side but when he encounters a young angel his world begins to widen only to discover the fate of all he loves is far darker than he could ever imagine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok firstly long chapter is long because I did not want to break up the story. This is Crowley's memories of his time as Raphael before his fall. I have played a little bit loose with canon and instead of being an Archangel I have made Raphael a Seraph as Lucifer was. I hope you enjoy the chapter but a warning for some blood and minor torture. Thank you to everyone who has commented on the previous chapters, I love to hear from you.

'Would it be too much for you to follow the instructions we have been given just once?' grumbled Gabriel as he fought to keep up with his work mate.

Raphael laughed, spinning around to face him, large silver-grey wings splaying wide to slow his speed, 'It looked better by the time I had finished with it,' he said, 'It's a nebula, irregularity suits it. It looked ridiculous with all those neat edges.'

'She wanted it so,' said Gabriel.

'Then She wouldn't have sent me,' said Raphael, 'She has allowed us the freedom to experiment in the design of the stars, our art is Her honour.'

Gabriel frowned, 'You are too sure of yourself.'

'And you are too rigid,' said Raphael, turning back towards his destination, 'Look ahead, Lucifer is meeting us.'

Gabriel rolled his eyes, his pace not nearly fast enough as Raphael turned his attention to their landing site where the black haired angel awaited them. His feet had barely touched the floor when a warm hand took hold of his in greeting.

'So returns the Prince of Heaven from his place amongst the stars,' Lucifer teased, 'You have been gone too long, my brother.'

'There was much work to do,' said Raphael, vanishing the long wooden staff he carried back into the ether, 'But you should see it Lucifer, we have made some truly beautiful works to honour our Lord though Gabriel may disagree that the work is good.'

Gabriel shook his head as he landed beside them, 'I shan't discuss it again,' he sniffed, 'We will see what Her thoughts are when we present ourselves. Come Raphael.'

'Give me a moment,' he replied, pushing a falling curl of long red hair back behind his ear, 'We have been gone to long and Lucifer came to greet us.'

'Actually I came to invite you,' said Lucifer, 'The new young ones are being awoken today and I thought we could go and see them. Word is that our Lord has been experimenting again and there will be some changes to observe. I believe this is another step towards this Man She has spoken of.' 

'Raphael,' barked Gabriel, 'We are expected, you cannot go frittering off with those who ought to know better. You are Seraphim and you should be examples.'

'All the more reason to be there to greet the young ones,' said Lucifer with a grin, 'And what better example than the Prince of Heaven.'

Raphael sighed but failed to keep the smile from his lips, 'You really should not call me that,' he said, 'I am nothing but a servant to Her name.'

Lucifer grinned, 'I may one day believe it,' he said, 'Come on, it will be soon.'

'Raphael, your duty is to God,' said Gabriel, 'We are expected.'

'We are already late,' said Raphael, 'And to view Her creations is to honour Her. You go on ahead, you may report on my failings and I will bear Her judgement when I present myself to Her.'

Gabriel bristled but said nothing more, spreading his snowy white wings and taking off from the landing site once more. Lucifer chuckled, clapping his companion on the back as he guided him in the opposite direction.

'I do not envy you, brother, having to spend so long in his company. He has but one vision and thinks himself too high, he is but an Archangel.'

'Gabriel is what he was made to be,' said Raphael, shaking out his great wings until they shrank to a more modest size and faded to the pure white of the lesser angels, leaving his counterpart's large black wings all the more conspicuous. He reached up and removed the circlet of gold from his forehead, vanishing it within the folds of his robe.

'Attempting to hide again,' said Lucifer, as they passed a small group of angels who immediately turned their gazes away.

'I would be looked upon as Raphael, not this foolish title you may play at but others take too seriously,' he said, 'I am no prince and I have no position greater than any other.'

'You are a Seraph and the favourite of God,' said Lucifer, 'She listens to you, consults with you, walks with you. She gives you far more power than others, far more freedom. You have been the driving force for the next stages of Her Plan, this Earth, this Eden.'

'I create beauty from chaos. It is the gift She gave to me, my purpose. I create, I weave the cosmos to please Her and She has had me turn my hand to Earth. That does not make me a prince, it makes me an architect,' he said, 'We all have our calling, Lucifer, and She will give me mine in time. I only hope then I will be seen and not treated as something untouchable. There are few I can talk to as I talk to you, those who do not turn away in genuflection beg me to present them favourably to God with promises of favours I do not need. I just long to be able to trust someone, to have someone look upon me and see me.'

'Careful, brother,' said Lucifer, 'That is almost akin to pride. Perhaps you should ask Her to give you a name for your calling, She announced Michael as her warrior, to protect the meek and the helpless, and she has hinted at mine.'

Raphael smiled, gold tinted eyes meeting the red hue of his companion's, 'It seems it is maybe you who will have a kingdom. You will rule over the balance of Man, wasn't that the phrase?'

'I am still praying for clarification on the words,' said Lucifer, 'But it is not mine to question, I shall obey and She will make things clear when it is time for me to know. Look here, we have almost missed it, they are already making their way to the Quartermaster.'

Raphael let his gaze fall upon the line of newly created angels who followed the call to the Quartermaster where they could be named and given their purpose, 'They do not look so different,' he said, 'Let us go and greet them. Promise not to give me away?'

'Your secret will be kept as long as those flames upon your head allow,' said Lucifer, flicking one of the red curls, 'You are entirely too obvious, regardless of how you choose to paint your wings. You would hide your hair if you were not so vain about it and do not claim you honour God by keeping it, I know you brother.'

'I would change it but it feels profane to do so,' said Raphael, 'I was born in Her flame, I live in the flame of Her light and She bid me bear the mark of it upon me. Still, to be seen as me...One appears to be struggling to keep pace with the others.'

Lucifer followed Raphael's gaze, biting back as laugh as he saw the flailing white wings of one of the fledglings as they struggled to get to their feet, 'The glory of God indeed.'

'Lucifer, don't be cruel,' said Raphael, 'You appear to have an audience. Go show yourself off and I will assist the young one.'

Lucifer needed no further persuasion, spreading not just the pair of black wings he normally displayed but releasing another four as he allowed the swirling fiery halo to surround his head, the blue of the flame bouncing off the black of his hair. The fledglings were soon admiring him, stretching new white wings against the expansive black ones. Raphael shook his head at the display, crossing the short distance to the young angel still struggling to find his feet. 

White robes were knotted around his legs as he tried to right himself, wings flaring but it was the laughter that gave Raphael pause, the pure delight that he remembered accompanying the first waking moments into Her Grace. He reached down, stilling the wiggling figure as he unknotted the robes and helped him to sit up.

'There now, that's a little better,' he said, 'You've got yourself in quite a state there, young one.'

'Oh! Hello. Are you an angel?' giggled the fledgling, blue eyes widening at the sight before him, as he reached up to touch the tumble of red curls before redirecting his hand to his own hair, losing his fingers for a moment in the soft blond curls, 'We're different. You have gold eyes, did you know? Do I have gold eyes?'

Raphael laughed, 'You are certainly full of questions,' he said, 'Take your time, you will come to understand everything. We'd best get you to the Quartermaster so that he may give you your name. Up onto your feet now, mind you don't trip on your wings.'

He pulled the fledgling to his feet, steadying him as he wobbled before he went to draw his hand away but the fingers tracing the gold patterning on his robe made him pause.

'These are very beautiful,' said the fledgling, 'So intricate. Do all angels get to wear such things? It matches your eyes. You have golden eyes. Did I say that already?'

'You did but I do not mind hearing it again. Yours are blue. Come now, you will be quite the last to report at this rate and I'm sure Lucifer will want you to admire his display.'

'Who?' asked the fledgling, keeping a hand on Raphael's arm as they made their way towards the other angels, the euphoria calming a little around him. 

Raphael pointed to black winged angel who was now easily surrounded by every other fledgling much to the Quartermaster's protests, 'He is quite the exhibitionist,' he said.

The fledgling took a tighter hold of his arm, 'He looks a little frightening.'

'He is very gentle I assure you, it is all for show,' said Raphael, 'Do not be afraid, young one.'

'Oh I shan't be. If you say he is safe then I shall feel safe.'

The Quartermaster finally wrangled the fledglings into their ranks, naming them and sending them off as Lucifer ended his display, turning his attention to Raphael and his companion.

'On your feet at last I see,' he said, laughing as the fledgling stumbled back against Raphael's wing, the strength of it the only thing to keep him upright, 'Or maybe not.'

'Lucifer, be kind,' said Raphael, 'You were no better when you were new. Do not worry about his teasing, young one, he thinks himself funny.'

'And my brother thinks himself a beauty,' countered Lucifer with a smirk.

'Well he is very beautiful,' said the fledgling with a smile, 'Am I meant to go with the others?'

'Yes,' said Raphael, leading him towards the Quartermaster despite Lucifer's chuckle.

He shook his head as the Quartermaster's eyes widened at the sight of him, instead nodding to the angel still clinging to his arm.

'Another Principality,' said the Quartermaster, 'Aziraphale, you are so named. You haven't been given a task as yet so you may join one of the choirs until orders are produced.'

'Well then, Principality Aziraphale,' said Raphael, 'This is where I leave you. Perhaps we will meet again.'

'I would like that,' he said, 'Oh but I do not know your name. Are you a Principality too?'

'I'm Raphael, just Raphael,' he replied, heading back to Lucifer and pointedly ignoring the look on his face as Aziraphale followed the Quartermaster's directions towards the others who had been newly named. 

'Just Raphael?' teased the dark haired angel, 'Oh when that young one realises he called the Prince of Heaven beautiful. Well at least God can be assured Her newest creations admire the old. Though he was somewhat of a funny looking thing, that Azi... what was he called?'

'Aziraphale,' said Raphael, as the angel in question disappeared from view, 'He's called Aziraphale.'

'Well then,' said Lucifer, 'Now they are all accounted for, including your funny looking one, you should report to the Almighty lest Gabriel has finally convinced Her you are not quite all you think you are.'

'Shut up,' said Raphael, shaking out his white wings until they grew large and silver-grey once more, 'Try not to create too much mischief before I return to you.'

'I promise nothing, brother.'

Raphael took off, circling over the ranks of fledgling angels but he could not see the blond head of the young angel who had looked at him with eyes untainted by his reputation. He had forgotten what it was to be just another angel. A face, albeit one admired, without a name. He shook off the thought, heading towards the meeting place where God often chose to speak with them. The light gave away Her presence as he descended to the platform, Gabriel obediently on his knees in genuflection. 

'And here is my wayward child,' came the voice from the light, 'Have you had your fun, my Raphael, and now chosen to come to me.'

'Forgive me, my Lord,' he said with a bow, 'I merely wished to view the newest of Your angels.'

'And how did you find them?'

'Perfect,' said Raphael, 'And unique. They shall be a credit to all Heaven.'

'I am glad you approve,' said the voice, 'Gabriel here tells me you have been making uniqueness of your own amongst the cosmos.'

'I merely experimented with a little variety, I would have the stars show nothing but Your glory, my Lord,' he said, ignoring Gabriel's ill-hidden groan, 'But some would have me ignore the gift of imagination You so generously bestowed.'

A chuckle emanated from the light, filling Raphael with warmth and love, 'You are a wilful one, my Raphael. Step closer child, I would talk with you alone.'

'Yes Lord,' he answered, bowing once more, 'I believe you may get up now, Gabriel.'

He stepped passed the Archangel still on his knees, the light enveloping him and blinding him for a moment before it cleared and he looked upon the face of his Creator for a moment before turning his gaze away. A warm hand took hold of his chin, raising his eyes to Her's as She smiled indulgently, golden hair spilling around Her spun from the light of Her Grace.

'You may look upon me, child,' She said, 'Do not turn your gaze from me, my Raphael.'

'As You wish,' he said, following Her as She began to walk.

'So you found the newest of my children to be acceptable?'

'It is not my place to judge, my Lord, but they seem strong and when they settle from the shock of their creation they will be of good use. There were a great deal of them though, we must have great deeds ahead.'

'Great indeed,' She said, 'It will soon be time for things to begin.'

'In view of such, and forgive me for the request, could You see fit to tell me what my role will be,' said Raphael, 'I have forged the stars and I have grown what was asked of me in Eden, it awaits only the Man You spoke of. Please, Lord, let me know how I will serve You in the times to come?'

'Child,' She spoke, holding his face in her hands, 'My angels already name you. You are my counsel and my most trusted amongst the Seraphim. You are one of my most beautiful creations. I created you to please me and it pleases me that you should serve me as you have done so already. You will be at my side, an example to all my angels when it is time for you to be so.'

Raphael felt the sting in his eyes, rolling down his cheek at the words, 'I...'

'Do not be afraid of this charge, Raphael,' She soothed, 'You are worthy of it. Do not weep in fear.'

Raphael closed his eyes, trying to find comfort in the love that emanated from his Creator but it was not the balm it had once been. It was not fear that made the cold tear on his cheek, it was loss. If he was truly to be what the angels already called him then Raphael would be no more, he would be held on high but distant. Untouchable. Unbidden, he recalled Aziraphale's face, innocent blue eyes taking him in as nothing more than an angel akin to him in all. He would never look on him in such a way again but it was as it was meant to be. He was an angel born to serve and serve he would.

xxxx

The Prince of Heaven. She had not yet named him as such, not openly but the implication had been there and it would come. He would be raised up, above all others, be closer to God than he was to his kin. Even Lucifer with his as yet elusive rule would not be held as such. Despite nothing being said, the thought of what he was to become seemed to fill the air around him even as he hid his great wings and walked unadorned in a plain white robe. Those who did not bow, would take hold of his hand, hold it to their cheeks and beg his favour, reporting on the great works they had done for their Creator. It was a terrifying prospect, forever the gateway to God for those who would not face Her directly. The jealousy of the higher ranks was just as difficult to bear, Gabriel especially difficult and Raphael was grateful that they had not needed to work together much since his last discussion with God. 

Heaven was not the refuge it had once been and Raphael had taken to spending his time amongst the stars he had created or checking on the development of the Earthly resources of Eden, the garden soon to house the fabled Man. He contemplated asking God if he could create another for them, so that he could keep Eden for himself but he knew it would be refused, She had said Herself that he had been created to please Her and he could not do so from so far away. When he did return to Heaven, he avoided the others as best he could, preferring solitude to sycophancy, Lucifer the only company he actively sought. 

On one such return he found Lucifer absent and the crowds of angels too much to bear, nearly twenty million of them all wishing, it seemed, to converge on the smallest part of Heaven despite its vastness. Luckily the strength of his wings gave him the ability to swiftly cover large distances and he soon found himself a space devoid of others, the vast whiteness not as soothing as Eden but filling him with ease nonetheless. 

It was only moments later when he heard a sound not often made in Heaven, the soft, sniffling sound of weeping. He had heard tears of joy often, many of the younger angels given over to such things when first in the Presence but tears of sadness were another thing. He hated the sound of it and hurried to find its source only to grind to a halt as he did so. He had not seen the young Principality that he had helped since the day of his creation but he could not mistake the platinum blond curls, nor the soft shape of the angel who had looked upon him without any preconceptions. A coldness raced down Raphael's spine as he heard the rough sob escape from Aziraphale and he closed the distance to where he was sitting, shaking his wings into their smaller white form as an afterthought. 

'Aziraphale?' he said gently, holding a hand up to calm him as tear-filled blue eyes met his in a panic, the angel looking moments from running away, 'It's alright. Do you remember me?'

Aziraphale wiped roughly at his eyes as he nodded, 'Yes I remember,' he said, a tremulous smile appearing before something flashed in his eyes and he turned away, 'I'm sorry, I just remembered that I shouldn't... forgive me.'

'Forgive you?' said Raphael, 'Whatever for? You have not wronged me in any way.'

Aziraphale sniffed, 'The others say that we shouldn't look at you if we aren't worthy and I am most definitely not worthy.'

'What nonsense,' said Raphael, kneeling before the other, 'You are as worthy as any for it takes nothing to look upon my face. I am an angel, same as you. Did you not look upon me when you were created?'

'Well yes but I didn't know who you were, I would never have presumed...'

'Aziraphale,' said Raphael, finally capturing his gaze, 'I am the same angel you met then. I am but Raphael, don't ever feel that you must look away just because of what others say.'

Blue eyes flicked back to the ground before they met golden ones with a warm smile, 'Thank you for your kindness. You won't get in trouble though will you? If there are rules about worthiness then I am not. I am not a very good angel it seems.'

Raphael huffed out a laugh before he saw the seriousness on the other's face, 'How are you not a good angel and who says as such?'

'Sandalphon,' said Aziraphale, 'I did not fly fast enough for him. I think there is something wrong with my wing, it hurts but he says it's because I don't try.'

'May I?' asked Raphael, stepping behind him as Aziraphale tentatively opened his right wing, revealing two of the primaries crossed over one another, 'Has no one helped you straighten these? No wonder it hurts.'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'Sandalphon said they were fine.'

'Well I shall have words with Sandalphon,' said Raphael, 'I can straighten them for you, if you permit me.'

Aziraphale nodded, biting his lip as Raphael straightened them as gently as he could, apologising as the tension in them made the process a painful one. His fingers smoothed them over when he was done, easing the pain as best he could. It was only as Aziraphale stretched out his mended wing that he saw the bright crimson stain on his robes.

'Injured too?' said Raphael, kneeling down once more and pressing a hand to the stain on the angel's leg, 'Why has this not been tended to?'

'I wasn't allowed to,' said Aziraphale, 'I have to bear it so that I learn.'

Raphael scowled, 'This was deliberate?' he said, as Aziraphale nodded, 'Sandalphon. He has no right to punish you as such, you are an angel of the Lord and as such answerable to Her alone. In Her name I will heal this and I will see that you are not harmed again, you have my word on that. May I?'

'Will it hurt?'

'As little as possible,' said Raphael, 'I have no wish to do you harm. Here, take my hand.'

Aziraphale wove their fingers together as Raphael lay his other hand on the bloody stain covering his thigh. He squeezed the hand in his as the wound knitted, leaving fresh clean skin and equally clean robes in its place. 

'There,' said Raphael, 'It will not be strong for a while yet but you should not be in so much pain. I can take away the memory of the injury if it will help.'

'I do not mind remembering so much now. Thank you. You are very kind,' said Aziraphale before he chuckled, 'Healed by the Prince of Heaven, they'd never believe it.'

'Healed by your friend,' said Raphael.

Aziraphale frowned, covering the hand still in his with his free one, 'I have pained you?' he asked, 'Forgive me if I used the title in vain, it is just that...'

'Do not trouble yourself,' said Raphael, 'I am not pained but I would not have you think of me as such and it is not as yet proclaimed anyway. I am just Raphael.'

'Raphael,' the angel repeated with a smile, 'As you wish. Either way you have been truly kind to me today as you were the day I woke. I shall endeavour to be a better angel to honour it.'

'You are a fine angel already and if it is that your wings need a little work, let us work on them together. Fly with me a while and I can help you.'

Raphael pulled him to his feet before stepping back, wings fading from pure white to silver-grey and doubling in size. Rather than react as the others did when they first witnessed the transformation, Aziraphale gave him an arch look.

'Not the Prince of Heaven but a show off nonetheless,' he teased, 'Lucifer may have given you a more accurate assessment than I originally thought.'

Raphael laughed, long red hair covering his face as he bent his head to his chest, half in mirth and half in embarrassment, 'Perhaps he has a slight insight,' he said as he recovered himself, 'No one... no one but him dares say such things to me and you... I shall have to watch what I reveal. Shall we, angel?'

'Lead on,' said Aziraphale, spreading his own white wings as Raphael swept into the air ahead of him. 

They began at a gentle pace, Aziraphale easily keeping pace with the Seraph beside him but Raphael soon changed the pace and the direction, challenging the younger angel until he could not keep up. He watched the shadow fall across Aziraphale's face as he finally had to give up, clearly waiting for the reprimand he was used to, which only faded as Raphael flew down beside him before prompting him to place his hands upon his shoulders as he took hold of his waist, vast wings easily carrying them both. He refused to answer as Aziraphale asked where they were headed at such speed, instead waiting until the expanse of the cosmos surrounded them. The light from the stars was cool but clear and Raphael released Aziraphale so he could better view the works before him.

'I have never been here before,' said Aziraphale, 'There is so much colour. Which are yours? I know enough of you to know you have made some of the stars.'

'Point and you'll probably hit one,' said Raphael, with a smile as he summoned his staff to his hand, his features soon highlighted by the golden accents that accompanied his true powers, 'And now I am showing off. No Principality has ever witnessed the birth of a nebula, shall you be the first angel Aziraphale?'

'I wouldn't dare deny you, oh Seraph,' he said, 'But you'll have to see if you can impress me.'

Raphael laughed at the tease, enjoying how easily the young angel before him had fallen into the practice. His assumed title, once pushed aside, so easily overcome as if it had never been there. He took the joy of it and poured it into his work, spinning the nebula and imbuing it with colour, pinks and reds swirling with the golden tendrils. He looked over his shoulder to see Aziraphale's eyes wide with wonder as he took in the expanse before him. Raphael thought of the blue of the eyes that looked into his without hesitation and, with a wave of his staff, let the colour weave into the nebula before him, smiling as he heard a gasp from the angel watching him. 

Content with what he had produced, he returned to his companion, 'So, have I impressed you?' he asked before he saw the strain on his face, 'Tired?'

Aziraphale nodded, 'My wings...'

'Come here to me and hold on,' said Raphael, 'I'm sorry, I didn't think. I'm so use to being out here. I'll land us somewhere.'

Warm, almost familiar arms came around his neck once more and he carried them both through the swirling nebula he had built. 

'I have you,' he said, tightening his arms as he felt Aziraphale's fingers twitch against him, desperate to reach out. 

The angel needed no further persuasion, freeing a hand to trail his fingers through the swirling colours. Raphael smiled at the joy on his face, deliberately slowing his flight to allow Aziraphale to better enjoy the sight. He finally landed them, choosing a place in a darker part of the cosmos to better preserve the peace that surrounded them. Sat side by side in silence, they viewed the expanse of the universe and Raphael let his mind wander ahead, wondering what would become of it all when the plan God spoke of fleetingly would come into play. He wondered at the fate of his creations, at his own fate and that of the angel beside him. Would he be allowed to pick companions as God had chosen him? He knew he would pick the angel at his side as one of them if he could.

'How do you do it?' said Aziraphale, breaking the silence, 'The stars I mean.'

'I think and they come,' said Raphael, 'I was given the task by God and I do not have to ask why. I create the stars to please Her... and you now it seems.'

Aziraphale laughed, 'You shouldn't say such things,' he said, before he smiled, 'Besides, you have only made me a nebula.'

'Well then,' said Raphael, 'Perhaps that shall grant me a reprieve or...'

'Or what?' said Aziraphale as the Seraph got to his feet, 'Raphael?'

Raphael set aside the great staff, holding his hands mere inches apart until a light began to glow between them. He reached for the faith and the love within him, the power that drove the creations he formed until the heat grew too much for him to hold and he cast it into the universe, watching as it found its own place amongst his other creations. He turned to his companion, eyes glowing gold at the power of his creation, and smiled brightly.

'For you,' he said, 'To tell all that you are a good angel and beloved by God and Her Seraphim.'

Blue eyes swam with tears for a moment before they were replaced with a smile, 'She has chosen well if She has chosen you,' said Aziraphale, 'But now I am humbled for I can give you nothing in return.'

Raphael returned to his place beside him, 'You truly do not see yet do you?' he said, 'You have given me what I have longed for. You look upon me and see Raphael as so few do and that is a true gift. We could... do you trust me, Aziraphale?'

The angel nodded without hesitation, allowing Raphael to take hold of his hands, holding them between his. Aziraphale kept himself steady even as his hands began to grow warm and then hot, the light between them growing steadily. Raphael hushed him gently until he lifted the light from between his hands, holding it without the need to release it. The light was small, barely half the size of the one Raphael had created alone so easily but he smiled at it all the same.

'I could not risk making it larger, it could hurt you,' he said, 'And it won't last alone but if I'm careful.'

He raised his hands, releasing the star in the same direction as the larger one. The star struggled to reach it but when it seemed a moment from failing, it gave a final leap, joining the other and being absorbed by its light.

'Where did it go?' asked Aziraphale.

'Still there, just in orbit with the other. They'll work together. You might not be able to see it but whenever you look at the larger star, you'll know the smaller star is there.'

'Show off,' said Aziraphale once more.

'Well I try,' said Raphael with a smile, 'Come on, I'll get us back. I still need to have a word with Sandalphon.'

Aziraphale blanched, 'You don't think it will make it worse do you?'

Raphael grinned, 'What's the point in being favoured by the Prince of Heaven, if he cannot speak in your favour now and then?'

Aziraphale rolled his eyes but got to his feet, 'So it suits you when it suits you then?'

'Oh indeed,' said Raphael, raising them back into the air and returning them to the more familiar surroundings. 

He deposited Aziraphale near to where many he had fledged with tended to gather but leaving enough distance to allow him to slip away without being seen, his large silver wings too noticeable but needed to carry them both. He left the younger angel with a promise to meet with him again before heading off in search of Sandalphon. 

He did nothing to hide his appearance as he approached, six wings fully splayed and shot through with black as he approached the gathering of angels that contained the one he was searching for. As he landed the flaming halo of gold encircled his head, wild curls dancing in its fury, eyes that had once been peaceful now molten gold in his fury. He did not pause to question, did not glance at the other angels who scattered as he stepped into their midst. The staff that aided him in creation now aided him in retribution, Sandalphon sprawled on the floor before he was even aware of what had hit him.

'You dare to harm an angel in your care!' cried Raphael, the world around him shaking in his fury, 'You dare to mark an angel of our Lord for so small an error.'

Hands upon his arm cooled his rage just enough to prevent another strike and he turned to see Michael at his side, the Archangel holding on to his arm despite the fear on her face.

'Peace, peace, my brother,' she begged, 'Calm yourself.'

Raphael shrugged her off but the power that surrounded him began to fade, leaving him before them as he was more commonly seen, 'Why should I calm when I find out that a fledgling has been maligned and injured for failing to match an unfair pace when no one had bothered to help him care for an injured wing,' he said, 'You were given that sword to protect the meek, Michael, will you now stand here an defend one who would harm such an angel?'

Michael looked between Sandalphon who still lay on the floor, eyes burning fury but not brave enough to counter the Seraph in his rage, and Raphael before she dropped her gaze to the floor. She opened and closed her mouth but it was not she who spoke.

'What is going on here?'

'Not your concern Gabriel,' said Raphael, turning to the Archangel, 'Merely reminding those trusted with power not to abuse it.'

'All I see is you standing over an injured Archangel,' said Gabriel, 'In full fury no less.'

'Oh I've not even reached full fury,' said Raphael, 'But don't push me, it's not far off. It would benefit you to remember to whom you speak as well.'

Gabriel scowled, pulling Sandalphon back to his feet, 'What's this all about?'

'Sandalphon needs to remember that punishment should be left to higher than his order,' said Raphael, 'If I hear of another angel injured in his or anyone's charge then I shall not hesitate. I will drag them before God and have them answer to Her. I don't care to hear arguments, I just expect the young ones to be properly treated.'

'You're not the Prince of Heaven yet, Raphael,' said Gabriel.

'Not yet,' he replied, 'Not yet and lucky for you all right now that is the case.'

'Forgive me, brother,' said Michael, ignoring the looks she received from the others gathered, 'You are right.'

Raphael shook off his fearsome appearance, patting her hand where it returned to rest on his arm, 'Just remember what She has named you and protect those who need it. We are not built for vengeance but for care and now I shall say no more on it. Come sister, walk with me, we have not spoken in a while and do not care for other gathered company.'

He paid no further mind to the others gathered, leading Michael away from the group in the hope that at least one of the Archangels the Lord had so anointed would prove worthy of her charge.

xxxx

Raphael was glad when he next sought out Aziraphale that he was being treated more fairly, if still coldly, by Sandalphon whenever he was placed in his charge. Still, he made sure to meet with the young angel after every such instance just to make sure the behaviour continued. It was a weak excuse, one Lucifer playfully called him on as often as he could, and Raphael soon dropped it, leaving few in doubt that he sought out the Principality out of preference rather than need. 

There was a need though, in Raphael's mind, Aziraphale the only one other than Lucifer that spoke freely with him and saw him as he wished to be seen. Whilst Lucifer had been his companion since his creation, Aziraphale was the companion he had chosen, the one who helped him to laugh at himself, who counselled him with patience and wisdom and treated him with as little reverence as possible. It soon became an open secret that if you wished to look for one, you could easily look for the other.

Raphael had taken him to see the stars he had created, Aziraphale growing stronger and able to keep pace most of the time but it was Raphael's secret joy whenever they came to rely on his great silver wings alone. When it became more common knowledge though they were often disturbed, mainly from those who wished for the same favour of Raphael's patronage. It was after one such occasion that Raphael decided the stars were no longer distant enough and instead spirited Aziraphale further than any angel had travelled other than him, tumbling them through space and atmosphere until they reached the lush expanse of Eden.

He longed to bottle the laughter of the moment he set the young angel down onto the grass only to have him all but leap into his arms once more at the feel of it. It was with wonder and joy that Aziraphale explored the garden once he had grown used to walking upon the ground and Raphael taught him the names of everything that grew there. He basked in the warmth of the star that shone down upon them, marvelled at the dance of water over the rocks, gently traced the petals of a flower Raphael had yet to give a name to. It became their haven, Raphael stealing them away to it whenever he could but Heaven still called them home and when it did Raphael found himself more and more with the younger angels. 

Where before they had feared him and cowered when he passed, they began to see beyond the name and the reputation as Aziraphale showed no fear towards the Seraph. He would sit with them, speak with them, join their choirs when they were given over to singing the praise of their Creator. There was a uniqueness in them all that pleased him, a spirit that differed from the angels that had come before and Raphael thought that if Man was to be based off the youngest of God's angels then he would be happy to watch over them. Still, though he enjoyed his time with them all, it was Aziraphale that he wished to spend the majority of his time with and with God making no further remark on Her wish to raise him up, he stole away with him more often than before. 

The star that shone upon Eden was at its zenith as Raphael set them both down in the bright clearing, the flowers opening as though in greeting and Aziraphale was the first to them, running fingers over the petals and remarking on the colours as Raphael watched him. He felt the familiar warmth in his chest, the feeling odd but not unpleasant. It was similar to the sensation he felt whenever he walked in the Presence but it was more acute, aching and constant within him. 

'They told us today that we will be called to Her soon,' said Aziraphale, picking his way over to the stream and sitting down beside the babbling waters, 'We are to be given our purpose at last.'

'Things are moving again,' said Raphael, sitting beside him and resting his chin upon his shoulder as he watched the pale fingers trail through the water, 'Lucifer was called to Her before I left. I think he is hoping She will confirm his position at last, it has been quite vague until now.'

'And you?' said Aziraphale, 'When do you think you will be called?'

'When it is Her will that I am so,' said Raphael, 'I am hoping that, when She does, She may allow me to choose someone to walk beside me. I shall choose you.'

Aziraphale flicked his fingers towards the head on his shoulder, water droplets flying through the air before hanging on Raphael's cheeks, highlighting the lingering gold on his features, 'I would expect no less for putting up with you for so long, my show off.'

Raphael laughed, the sound mimicking the passage of the water over the rocks, 'You are much put upon as my companion, dearest angel,' he said, getting to his feet, 'Come, I shall prove to you that I am worth the aggravation. There is something new in our garden.'

'Have you been creating again?' asked Aziraphale, allowing himself to be led by the hand into a grove of trees until he saw one set out from the rest, a lush green tree hung with deep red fruit, 'Oh my!'

'Quite a sight is it not,' said Raphael, 'And the work is none of mine, Her hand alone has been here. Listen though, do you hear the sound?'

Aziraphale frowned, 'There is an odd note in the air, a tone.'

'It is singing but not by angels,' said Raphael, leading him beneath the canopy of the tree, 'She has given life anew, She calls them all by the collective term of animals but there is such variety in them. These frantic little souls build their home against a tree and wear bodies of fluff and clouds. Hold out your hand, don't be afraid.'

Aziraphale held out his hand, palm up until one of the small black and yellow animals landed on his palm, barely any weight, wings of cloud rather than feather vibrating upon its back, 'It is the wings that hum,' he said, 'They sing with their wings.'

'And they have a great task,' said Raphael, 'Man will require more sustenance than the love of our Lord. These small creatures will produce a sweetness that will give them strength. It is quite a revelation.'

'How will it give them strength?'

'They will take it inside them, through their mouths and into their bodies,' said Raphael before he grinned, 'It is an odd sensation.'

Aziraphale looked up at him as the small creature took flight, returning to the nest hanging beneath the branch, 'You have...'

'God bid me know though I do not need it,' he said, stepping up to the nest, speaking calmly to the tiny beasts as he reached into a chamber, fingers coming away stained with a gold that was a different hue to his usual pigment, 'Dare you?'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'God's creations are not for me,' he said, 'You are to be at Her side but I am wholly unworthy.'

'Nonsense,' said Raphael, 'I have chosen you and you have chosen me therefore if I am raised up so to you shall be. I deem you worthy and you should think of yourself in the same way. You are much beloved by me, Aziraphale. I am yours if you will claim me.'

'I cannot claim the Prince of Heaven.'

'Then claim Raphael, as I have always been to you.'

'Then as you are mine, so am I yours,' said Aziraphale, 'My Raphael.'

Golden eyes shone with tears before they were blinked away, 'Now we stand equal,' he said, 'And as such, I ask again, dare you?'

Aziraphale laughed, 'You are a tricky one at times,' he said, 'But I dare.'

Raphael raised his hand, grazing his gold painted fingers along the full bottom lip of his companion, allowing him a taste of the sweetness that would one day feed Man. Aziraphale's eyes closed, delight spreading across his face and Raphael watched in awe as a single drop of sweetness lingered on his lips. It was the memory of taste and the fire in his chest that had him lean down to capture it, not with fingers but with his own lips, pressing mouth to mouth with his heart's companion. The touch was fleeting but in it he felt more perfection that he had ever known even when he had spun his greatest works in the cosmos. Silence hung between them until blue eyes opened and met his, joy in their depths as the angel spoke.

'Again.'

It was both request and command and Raphael could do nothing but obey, pressing his lips once more to those ready to receive him. 

The star that shone upon Eden had tracked a path across the sky as they lay beneath the great tree, cradled within Raphael's silver-grey wings. Aziraphale's fingers sought the long red curls, deftly braiding several strands behind the Seraph's ear, before they returned to tracing the highlights of gold the littered his beloved's pale cheeks. He traced the swirling patterns, laughing as more appeared beneath his fingertips. 

'Show off,' he teased, 'Will you bear every mark you let me paint upon you? I shall place my name upon you and then all of Heaven will know.'

Raphael laughed, 'All of Heaven does know,' he said, 'You are known as my favourite quite as much as I am known as a Prince yet uncrowned. Talk of Heaven prompts us though, we should return. You must await your calling and I must see Lucifer, no doubt he will wish to crow over the promised realm he is to rule.'

'Must we go?' said Aziraphale, 'I always despair to leave the beauty of this place.'

'You return to Heaven, foolish fledgling,' said Raphael, 'The most beautiful of all places.'

'Here holds more,' said Aziraphale before he dropped his gaze, 'Is it profane to say so?'

Raphael chuckled, 'I am the only one listening,' he said, 'Perhaps God will allow us to linger here one day, watch over Man side by side. I shall ask Her, She has never refused me. Now come, we must return or I shall have Gabriel in my ear that we were absent for so long. He has made his disapproval of us quite clear on many occasion.'

'Yes he has said much the same to me,' said Aziraphale, 'I told him I could hardly refuse a request from one so high.'

'So you come with me out of obligation?' said Raphael, shaking out his wings as they stood.

'Why else would I come?' said Aziraphale, his laughter turning to one of delight as Raphael sped them both upwards from the garden. 

The laughter only faded as they reached the familiar surrounds of Heaven, Raphael tightening his grip on Aziraphale for a moment as a shiver went through him. It passed as quickly as it came but he was reluctant the part them nonetheless. It was only the sound of others approaching that had them stepping away from one another. 

'I will come for you soon,' promised the Seraph.

'I will be waiting, my Raphael.'

It was almost impossible to leave but Raphael took to the air once more, turning his thoughts to Lucifer as he searched for his dark-haired brother, eager to hear what task God had finally decided for him. His wings carried him until he finally came upon him but it was not the sight he was expecting, black wings trailed on the floor as the halo of blue fire that was normally so grand when he chose to show it instead seemed to dim and wane as he paced.

'Lucifer! Brother!' he called, concern replacing the elation of the passed moments with Aziraphale as he landed, 'What is this upon you? I've never seen such sadness. Have you not been given your calling?'

'My calling is to be my curse,' spat Lucifer, red eyes wild as he regarded him, 'I have heard what is before me and I... Raphael it cannot be.'

'Peace,' said Raphael, 'What has happened? How can any calling from our Lord be a curse, She does not curse Her children.'

Lucifer laughed though the sound was black, clawing at Raphael in its fury, 'So eager as always to see the good,' he said, 'Oh brother, you know nothing of what is before us. I will rule a kingdom as was promised but to rule it I must pass from Heaven and I must pass from God Herself. I am to be buried in the depths of creation, to rule the black and the blood and the horror. I am to be the antithesis of Her. I am to be the exact opposite of Her light so that the humans she seeks to replace us with know what it is to be turned away from Her love. I will be nought but darkness and I am not the only one sent to this fate. We have wondered for so long why the young ones are so different, it is because they are to join me. The are to be Legion, cast out of Heaven and away from Her love to serve me in a kingdom I do not want.'

Raphael shook his head, 'Lucifer, you have misunderstood. God would not...'

'I am no fool, brother, I understood Her words. She took great pains to see that I did as She bid me kneel at Her feet and listen as She destroyed all,' he said, 'She will throw me down and the young ones beside me, all of them.'

Raphael felt a twist in his chest as though a blade had been thrust into him, 'Aziraphale,' he said, 'No, no, he could not be sent from the light, he is innocence. They are all innocence. She could not... Why raise them in Grace only to... Lucifer you have to be wrong. I will go to Her, understand this better.'

Lucifer scowled, 'There is no point, the decision is made and you cannot sway it,' he said, 'But I yet may. I will say no more though. Go to Her if you will but go for Aziraphale, not for me, for She has already forsaken me. Go, my brother, go.'

He wanted to stay, the coldness of Lucifer's words so different to the laughter that usually surrounded him. He reached out, laying a hand upon the shoulder that had so often been a prop and a pillow since their creation, the two of them so joined with such hope since the beginning that he could almost feel it shatter beneath his fingers.

'I will go to Her for you both,' he promised, taking to the sky.

His hands shook as he struggled to summon the markings and adornments that so pleased his Creator. He landed with wings on display, his halo shining over his head and bouncing across the intricate golden patterns in his skin. So rarely did he kneel in hope of Her coming to him but he ignored the weight of his adornments to lie himself out fully, face to the floor as he begged for Her Presence. 

Warmth surrounded him but he kept his eyes firmly shut until cool hands came upon him, lifting him from the floor with ease. He did not look upon Her but there was no reverence in the reason, fear that she would instead read Aziraphale's image in his eyes.

'So desperate for me, my child,' She said, 'Why have you sought me out?'

'I come for Lucifer,' he said, 'He has told me of Your plan for him and I fear he has misunderstood. Surely he is wrong when he tells me that he shall be turned away, denied Your love. You love entirely.'

'Things are necessary, my child,' She said, 'Lucifer's place has been known since the beginning and now it is time for him to own it.'

'But to be turned away...'

'It is not your place to question,' She said, 'Lucifer will serve me as I deem fit as will all others of my creation.'

Raphael cursed the sob that broke from his lips before he threw himself to his knees before her, 'All others,' he said, 'Lucifer said all the young ones were to be sent with him, to be cast out of Heaven. I must beg You to spare them, they are so fine and precious and they deserve to live within Your love.'

A hand took firm hold of his chin, forcing him to look into Her eyes, 'You don't ask for them all,' She said, flicking the braid that hung down by his ear, 'A falsehood that you care for all of them when you ask for but one. I have not forbidden your dalliance with the Principality Aziraphale but I do now. You will cast him aside and become what I have chosen you to be, my Prince.'

'No! No I do not want this. Do not force me,' cried Raphael before his lips failed to speak another word of protest.

Fingers plucked the braid from his hair, the shout of pain muffled by his motionless lips as it was cast to the floor, russet strands spilling from the knot. 

'You shall love no other but me,' She said, 'See no other but me. You were created to honour me and walk at my side. You will forget him and rise to what you are meant to be. Forget him and rise, Prince of Heaven.'

Her hands encircled his head, the halo he was used to growing heavy as his wings grew large, shot through with gold. The weight was unbearable but he was compelled to his feet. His body was swathed in cloth of gold, adorned with elegant chains and sigils of the Creator. He looked upon Her with waking eyes before they closed, replaced by one on his forehead that looked forward and backward and into every void in the universe. Thoughts fled him, feeling fled him though tears spilled from his closed eyes, raining diamonds and rubies that scattered to the floor at his feet. 

Her voice carried him, carried him from Her Presence and back into Heaven. He knew them all and none of them as he walked, adorned in the greatness of the Lord, the Prince of Heaven chosen to walk beside Her. He felt hands upon him, words whispered and pleas made but he did not respond. The jewels that spilled from his eyes were collected and turned into circlets to adorn the heads of the angels and still he walked, ever on, covering all of Heaven so all of Heaven could look upon the work of their Creator. Voices whispered in his ear, countless prayers and he felt as though the stars had grown old and cold around him, his work fading as he walked. 

A voice whispered that she would ask for his blessing, a voice whispered that they would sing for him and honour God through his name, a voice told him that Lucifer mourned for him, a voice told him that he would be freed when they rose up against their vengeful Creator, three hundred strong. He heard none of them, felt none of them even as they took his hands, held his face, lay at his feet. He walked until a hand took hold of his and did not let go, did not speak or whisper, did not beseech. The jewels that fell from his eyes went uncollected. An age seemed to pass until finally the hand left his, taking hold of his face in a gentle caress. Warm lips pressed to his in a touch so familiar yet forgotten. Then came the whisper, pressed so close to his ear.

'I don't know if you can hear me, I don't know if you're even still there but I am here and I am waiting. I will always be waiting for you. I will wait for you, my Raphael.'

The name was like a summons and the weight grew all but unbearable. He fell to his knees, agony flowing through his body as memory assaulted him, painful and beautiful, but one name came before all others. 

'Aziraphale.'

Voice unused to speaking rasped painfully but he forced it to speak again and again, the power of it returning command to limbs as he ripped away the constricting chains, fingers bloodied in the effort. He forced open his eyes, the light blinding him for a moment but it was a welcome pain. He struggled to his feet, the large wings heavy, pulling him back even as he struggled to walk forward. The air tasted cold and metallic, the atmosphere of Heaven tainted by something he could not name but his mind would not focus on the reason, desperate only to find the angel that had woken him though he could not say how long had passed since those beloved hands had cradled his face and gentle lips had breathed life back into him. He feared he was too late, that the innocence of his chosen mate had been already stripped from him to wither in the depths of the darkness. 

Where before he had tried to avoid those he shared Heaven with, he actively moved amongst them now, eyes frantically searching for Aziraphale even as hands grabbed and tugged at his increasingly tattered robes. He felt despair in his chest but as he stumbled through the lines of angels that seemed to march almost in platoons he finally found the familiar soft shape even as his eyes struggled to remain open. He tumbled into his arms, hearing the cry of shock before pure white wings surrounded him.

'Raphael?' cried Aziraphale, 'Oh my Raphael what has happened to you.'

'To Eden,' he begged, 'To Eden, can you get us there? You know the way. I cannot fly.'

Arms that had only ever been gentle heaved him up, barely stumbling under his weight before everything fell away and they were speeding through creation, heading to the sanctuary they had claimed. The landing was rough and painful, one of the six silver wings snapping beneath the weight of the others but the agony was welcome, feeling something that had been denied him for so long. Even more welcome though were the hands that took hold of his face, beloved blue eyes meeting his in fear and elation.

'I feared I had lost you,' he said, 'You were so changed and lost. I watched you weep for so long, still and silent and so distant. She called you a Prince but I... all I saw was pain.'

'It hurts so much,' Raphael wept, 'I feel heavy and torn. She has bound my head in fire and my veins in ice. I could not see, could not think until you came for me. I woke at your words but you were gone.'

Aziraphale smiled weakly, 'That was so long ago,' he said, 'I feared that you had not heard. I have missed you so much.'

'What has happened? Have you been called to God yet?'

Aziraphale nodded, 'That was where we were going,' he said, 'Though I am not sure whether it was for our purpose or for protection. Dear one, I hate to pain you when you are so hurt but Lucifer has spoken against God it seems, there have been whispers that something is brewing, that he is questioning the motives of our Lord. Now you are wakened from your sleep perhaps you can reason with him.'

Raphael shook his head, 'If I am to go to him then I shall join with him,' he said, catching Aziraphale's hands as the angel made to pull away, 'You must hear me. She has caged me for loving you, broken me and forbidden me from seeing you. She tried to chase you from my mind because She does not want me to love you. She does not want me to protect you. Aziraphale, Lucifer has been given dominion of a realm beyond the light. He will rule despair but you and your brothers and sisters will be his companions. You are all to be damned. Cast from Heaven and into the darkness. I begged Her to spare all of you but She would not hear it. I will not have you cast out, whatever the cost.' 

Aziraphale shook his head, 'That cannot be true,' he said, 'Please tell me it is not.'

'I cannot,' said Raphael, struggling to force his wings to respond to him despite the weight and the pain, 'But perhaps this can still be changed. Perhaps She can be reasoned with but while the risk remains, I must keep you safe here.'

'How is here safer than Heaven?'

'Because it is not Heaven,' said Raphael, 'She has said you will be cast from Heaven but She cannot cast you out it you are not there. I will keep you here until this is passed. You will remain within the light, innocent and good as you were created to be, my dearest Aziraphale. I will return to you but now I must to Heaven, I have hope still that I can save all including Lucifer.'

'But if you don't? If you can't?' said Aziraphale, reaching up to touch the gold sigils carved into his skin, 'She has caged you once.'

Raphael sighed, pressing his cheek into the warm, soft hand, 'Then may this be farewell if it must but know that I leave my love with you, to be a part of you. Remember that you saw the truth in someone that no one dared recognise. That you gave me back my name and the truest part of myself. That you loved the reality of me. Care for those who need you, care for the weak and the desperate, whoever they may be and love desperately,' he said before a tear coursed down his cheek, real rather than the jewelled tears of the Prince, 'But remember these things as a part of you not as a memory of me. I have the power, as I told you long ago when you were hurt, to let you forget. I beg you now, let me take myself from your memory so that, should She call on you and make you speak of this time, you will answer that you remember no Raphael and the answer will be true. I ask you to make this sacrifice with the promise that I will remedy it if I can, that I will return your memory if this does not go ill. Please, my love, please let me save you as you saved me the day you laughed your way into creation.'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'I cannot forget you,' he said, 'I will be nothing without you.'

'I will be with you,' said Raphael, 'For there is not a part of you that is not a part of me already. Please Aziraphale, for all that we could be, let this be the end now.'

Warm lips pressed to his, turned bitter by tears that had no right falling from the mournful blue eyes. Only when they parted did Raphael see the small nod, the consent given even as it shattered his heart to see it. It took no more than the touch of his hand and a thought, the angel's eyes closing and falling into an oblivion that would only break when he was found by another from Heaven. Though his wings were heavy, he lifted the sleeping angel into his arms and carried him beneath the tree they had rested under so long before it felt. He could not resist pressing his lips once more to Aziraphale's motionless ones, claiming one last taste of his love before he moved to whisper in his ear.

'Love fiercely and truly. Protect the weak and those in need. Live fully and well, embrace creation and know the stars burn for you because they are my children and I give them to your care. Remember in your deepest heart that I love you.'

Tears fell onto the pale cheeks, the last touch to pass between them as Raphael struggled to his feet, spreading the silver-grey wings and forcing them to carry him into the air though every beat was agony. The pain of Heaven hit him as he grew closer, the air thick with terror and agony. He wanted to fly away, his body repulsed by the sensation but instead he pushed towards it even as his wings gave up and he was forced to run. He called his great staff to his hand, remembering how he wielded it to create the cosmos but now calling it to a new purpose, hoping to defend whoever found themselves in need.

So many of the fledglings he had sat with stood flanked by armed angels, a huddle of misery but there were hundreds more in a worse state, broken and bloodied in a heap before a great dais of glass upon which stood the Archangels of the Lord, Her light amongst them. The light did not reach the broken ones but he could still see enough to recognise the blue-black hair of Lucifer though he was no longer the imposing figure he had known, wings torn and body ragged as he lay amongst those he had called to him. 

Raphael fell between them and the light, kneeling before the light of his Creator without a care for his appearance, 'Lord, I beg you,' he cried, 'Stop this. Can you not see the horror of this destruction?'

'Here is our absent child,' came the voice from the light, 'Our gifts tossed aside, ungrateful wretch and a thief as well. Where is the angel Aziraphale that you stole away from us?'

'Where he is safe,' said Raphael, 'Until this madness is done. I kneel before you, Lord, broken and humble to beg You to show mercy. Show mercy to Your children who have done You no wrong.'

'They have risen against us.'

'In fear,' said Raphael, 'In fear of what lies before them. They are frightened and confused. Show them that you are merciful, Lord. Your Prince begs you. I will serve you however you see fit but please, please show them mercy.'

'You have no right to ask this of us. You have betrayed our love.'

'I have not!' he cried, getting to his feet, 'I betrayed nothing. You gave me imagination and bid me use it as it I saw fit. You gave me love yet condemn me when I do the same.'

'You dare to stand before me!'

Cold hands grabbed at his ankle and he turned his sight from the light to see Lucifer at his feet.

'Brother,' rasped the dark haired angel, 'Get down. Be humble and survive this. Do not fight for me now, I am done.'

Raphael shook his head, 'I will not kneel! I will never more bend! Instead I will stand and I will ask why. I will ask why You have born Your children into Grace only to strike them down. I will ask why You have given us the chance to know our own minds and then forbidden thoughts. I will ask why You have allowed us questions to condemn the asking. I will demand that you answer me now before all of Heaven. Why?'

The silence roared around him, even the Archangels he had expected to mock his outburst stood shocked and terrified. It was only Michael who tried to break the ranks, Uriel's hands enough to hold her back as the light grew brighter on their dais. 

'If you will not kneel, then you will crawl,' came the voice, the foundation of Heaven itself shaking and toppling Raphael to the floor. 

He tried to stand once more but his legs failed him. His hands, once adorned with swirls of gold sprouted black scales, ugly and tarnished against his pale skin. Next came the agony, tearing through his body and making him writhe, his screams melting into pleas for mercy but they went unheard. He barely felt the hands upon him, cradling even in their own agony, bloods mingling as millions of screams seemed to join theirs. Despite all, only one word came to him as his body burned under the judgement of Heaven, spilling from his lips as he met the red, sorrowful eyes of Lucifer.

'My Aziraphale,' he cried, unsure whether it was a plea or a lament.

Lucifer shed a bloody tear as he pressed a ruined hand to Raphael's forehead, power that would soon be stripped granting one last mercy.

'Forget.'

It was the last word Raphael heard, memory fading away as the world fell from beneath him and he plummeted downwards in the arms of the brother who had been at his side since the day of his creation but it gave him no comfort, the truth of Raphael burning away in the flames that came to consume them.


	8. Lost in Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in Hell, Aziraphale waits to find out what Lucifer and Crowley have to discuss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in the chapter, I needed a few days after the last epic! Thank you so much to everyone who commented and left kudos, I was truly overwhelmed by the response.

Aziraphale flinched as the lock clicked shut on the door Crowley had just passed through with Lucifer. His fingers went unbidden to his wedding ring, twisting it around his finger until Michael covered his hand with hers. 

'He'll be alright,' she said, sounding little convinced herself but Aziraphale appreciated the gesture.

'I sincerely hope so,' he said, 'This is all becoming a little too much.'

'You really love him,' said Michael, blushing as she dropped her gaze to the table top, 'I didn't think it was true but seeing you two together, you fit one another and it makes me question everything.'

Aziraphale managed a half smile, 'I spent six thousand years questioning how it was possible to feel so much for a demon and know he felt it in return but now I don't. We're just us, Heaven and Hell play no part in it. Well, we wish they didn't anyway.'

'Lucifer acts as if he knows you. Have you really been to Hell before? I would have thought we would have known if you had. Someone would have realised.'

Aziraphale cleared his throat, getting to his feet and pacing the length of the table, 'Well you see... oh perhaps we should wait for Crowley... he would want...'

The scream that echoed from behind the door stilled the angel, panic rushing like ice through his veins. The second scream had him at the door, struggling for purchase at the slight indent that gave away its presence when there was no handle to be found. He barely realised his voice was joining Crowley's, his own shout desperate and begging as he ripped his fingers bloody on motionless door. Hands came upon him, trying to hold him back from injuring himself but he shook them off, only pausing when a desperate cry sounded next to his ear.

'Please don't fight, you're hurting me.'

Michael's words cut through the fear engulfing him and he backed away from the door even as the sound of Crowley's cries continued. 

'I have to get to him,' he said wretchedly, 'What is he doing to him?'

'You're no good to him if you injure yourself or worse,' said Michael, 'We have to be ready to run if this is about to turn ill. Aziraphale, you need to be ready. He would not want you here if you are in danger.'

'I won't leave him,' said Aziraphale, returning to the door and pounding on it, 'Let me in! Crowley! Crowley I'm here, I'll get to you.'

'Aziraphale!'

The cry was hopeless, desperate. A mournful scream that only one who had truly known loss could make. It echoed through the closed door, seizing Aziraphale's heart as he heard it but worse was to come as Crowley fell silent. 

'Crowley! Crowley, can you hear me?'

The lock clicked, the door swinging inwards and nearly taking Aziraphale down with it but he got to his feet, moving into the dim light of the room. His eyes fell first on Lucifer, the Lord of Hell slumped against a wall with his black hair obscuring his face, but he tore his eyes away, intent on finding Crowley. The demon lay not far off, curled in on himself and trembling, his long hair in disarray but Aziraphale could still make out his face, eyes tightly closed and leaking tears as he mumbled senselessly. He crossed the floor, kneeling before the prone figure and reaching out, snatching his hand back as Crowley shrieked and curled tighter.

'It's me, my love,' he said quietly, not wanting to startle him further, 'I'm here, Crowley. I'm here and I'm going to take you home whatever it takes. You're safe with me. Crowley, darling, please open your eyes.'

'He is lost in memory,' came Lucifer's voice at his back, 'This will not be an easy process for him.'

'What have you done to him?' cried Aziraphale, not caring for who stood before him, 'If you've hurt him...'

'The hurt was necessary. There was no other way,' said Lucifer, 'Save your strength for him, Aziraphale, he is going to need it in the coming hours. You should get him somewhere safe, somewhere he knows. It will make it easier.'

'What did you do to him?'

'Returned his memory of before the Fall and it is not a happy one,' said Lucifer.

'To what end?' snapped Aziraphale, 'Why make him remember that? He should not have to relive that pain any more than he does already. I've already seen what the nightmares do to him, why bring them into the waking world too?'

Lucifer growled, 'You are unwise to question me so.'

'I have questioned God before and you mean far less to me,' said Aziraphale, 'You may strike me down for it if you wish but you've have already shown your hand by saying that I am essential to this.'

'Aziraphale?'

The murmur was so quiet that only ears that had been listening for it heard but the angel quickly turned his back on Lucifer, gently stroking the long red hair of his husband, 'I'm here. I'm with you, darling.'

'To Eden, can you... I cannot fly.'

'You do not need to fly, my love and Eden is long passed,' said Aziraphale, 'We're going to go home. I will carry you if I must.'

'It hurts so much,' Crowley whispered though the words were spoken to the floor.

'It will be alright,' soothed Aziraphale, cursing the demon's height as he struggled to lift the prone figure from the floor without hurting him. 

He stood with a effort borne from need, securing the weight of the demon in his arms and heading to the door. He ignored Michael's shocked gasp as they emerged, wanting to be angry that she had not followed to help but he had only enough strength to focus Crowley who had fallen motionless and heavy in his arms. 

'I trust you will keep your word regarding our safe passage,' he said as he heard Lucifer exit behind him. 

'Beelzebub will see you back the way you came,' he replied.

'That does not answer my question,' said Aziraphale, 'You forget I'm married to a demon and with that I've learned to expect a straight answer to a straight question. Will you keep your word and allow all three of us safe passage out of Hell?'

Lucifer growled but nodded, 'You have my word that all three of you will exit unmolested.'

'Then I must only hope you keep your word as Crowley does,' said Aziraphale, tightening his grip on the demon, 'Michael, stay close to me.'

They passed the large table, the food and drink still untouched, the door back into the corridors of Hell swinging open without any need for a command. Beelzebub stood wearing a frown, clearly having had to wait for her master to deal with his guests but a cruel smirk turned the corners of her lips as she saw Crowley in Aziraphale's arms.

'Forcing you to dispose of his carcass?' she sneered, 'About time something was done about him.'

'Enough!' thundered Lucifer from behind them and Aziraphale put it down to the instinct not to drop Crowley rather than any sort of bravery that he did not flinch at the sound. Michael too managed to keep herself steady though a hand curled into Aziraphale's sleeve as they left the room.

'Beelzebub you will see them safely back the way they came,' said Lucifer, 'We have an accord. They will not be harmed, any of them. If I hear of anything happening contrary to this then you will bear the consequence, am I quite clear?'

Beelzebub dropped her gaze, 'Yes, master,' she hissed, the shame of being spoken to in front of angels clear in her voice, 'Follow.'

Aziraphale didn't look back at Lucifer as he righted his grip on Crowley, determined not to stumble as he carried him through the densely packed corridors. He was grateful as Michael came to his side, standing close enough to protect the demon in his arms from the hands that flicked towards them despite Lucifer's promise. The demon himself was silent and still, either unconscious or so deep within his own memories that it did not affect his physical form. Despite his worry, Aziraphale was grateful for it, allowing them to journey out of Hell almost as smoothly as they walked in. He forced his thoughts away from what was befalling his husband in his silent state, needing to be on guard as he realised, despite Michael's bravado, that she would be little help in a fight. The demons that surrounded them at least kept their barbs to words alone though it was only Beelzebub's presence as a emissary of her master that kept them at bay. 

Another thought struck him as they reached the first door they had come through when they had descended into Hell. Whilst the demons were bound by Lucifer's words to allow them safe passage out of Hell there was nothing to say they would not be free to harm them once they were beyond its borders. The thought brought another swiftly on its heels, the demonic threat superseded by an angelic one. They would be at Heaven's mercy as well as Hell's if they fell under Gabriel's gaze.

He was glad that Beelzebub wasn't given over the unnecessary pleasantries as she opened the door for them with barely concealed aggression before slamming it soundly behind them without a word. Only the stairs stretched out before them to carry them back up to the world above. 

'We don't have Crowley's wings,' said Michael, her thoughts clearly having followed the same path as Aziraphale's, 'We should have asked Lucifer to see us safely back to your shop.'

'I was not the only one down there capable of speech,' snapped the angel, 'You could have asked him if the thought was in your mind. I was somewhat preoccupied.'

'I didn't think of it until we were leaving,' said Michael, as Aziraphale stepped ahead of her onto the escalator, 'What are we going to do?'

Aziraphale willed the demon in his arms to wake but Crowley remained unmoving and the thought of trying to bear him home in such a state was not a palatable one.

'I can't fly with him without leaving you and I don't think I could safely miracle all three of us back to the shop, not least because it is more likely to bring Heaven's gaze down onto us,' he said, 'I'm going to have to face it...'

'Face what?' said Michael as he trailed off.

'That bloody car,' said Aziraphale as they approached the top of the stairs, 'We'll have to make a run for it without cover.'

'And then what?'

'Hope that I am more successful than I was last time I got behind the wheel of that thing out there.'

Michael didn't have any more time to question him as they reached the top of the stairs, entering the atrium that represented such a thin line between Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale broke into as much of a run as he could manage without dropping Crowley, glad that Michael was swifter despite her injuries, the Archangel hitting the Bentley and pulling open the door. She shoved the passenger seat forward, clambering into the back before she reached out to grasp Crowley's shoulders.

'Give him to me,' she instructed, dragging him onto the seat beside her as best she could, the bench nowhere near big enough for the pair of them but she managed to secure them both on it with a force of will that overcame her injuries, 'I'll take care of him.'

Aziraphale nodded, closing the passenger door before hurrying round to the other side of the car. He risked a look up at the towering building above them, sightless windows staring down at them and he hoped at least that no one was aware of them below. He climbed into the car, cursing the length of his husband's legs as he shoved the seat into a better position before he set his hands tentatively on the wheel.

'Now listen here you,' he said to the car, 'We didn't get along the last time and I really don't want to be here but he needs us to work together to get him home. You do what you have to do and don't fight me and I promise to never complain about bebop or your suspension again. Please just start for me.'

The engine roared into life clearly longing for the familiar speed and Aziraphale felt its protest through his hands as he kept a more sedate pace though faster than he would choose to go in his haste to put any entrance to Heaven as far from them as possible. The Bentley settled and seemed content to follow his guidance, only occasionally having to be wrestled back to a decent speed. 

'Aziraphale,' said Michael from the back after long minutes of silence, 'I think he's waking.'

'Just keep him calm,' said Aziraphale, wanting to look back but fear kept his eyes on the road, 'Talk to him. Tell him where we are, what's happening. It helps him to find his way back when he has nightmares.' 

Michael did as he requested, her voice in an attempt at a comforting tone that fell a little flat. It reminded Aziraphale painfully of how cold Heaven had been. Words of comfort, if they were ever offered at all, always falling on the wrong side of genuine. It had been Crowley who had shown Aziraphale how comfort worked, even from their first meeting on the walls of Eden he had spoken with care and it had only grown in the long years of their acquaintance. He longed to change places with Michael, to be the one coaxing Crowley back to wakefulness but he instead kept his concentration on the road ahead and the car beneath them that he only trusted for the fact that Crowley was present in the car. 

Michael's words soon became interspersed with murmurs from the demon, the words unclear before they were cut off by a scream that had Aziraphale fighting to keep the car on the road. Crowley's shouts continued, Michael's own pained cries joining them as she struggled to keep him still as he writhed and shouted in her arms. There was no warning to prepare them as the large black wings forced themselves into reality, easily taking out the back window and narrowly missing hitting Michael as she ducked, letting the wing press painfully against the roof of the car that only added to the demon's cries. 

'He's going to kill us all,' cried Michael, 'Do something Aziraphale.'

'I can hardly stop and pull him out into the street looking like that,' he said, pushing aside the thick feathers that were creeping down over him, 'We're almost there. Just try and keep him calm.'

'Easily said from where you are,' said Michael, 'His face is starting to look strange.'

Aziraphale turned as best he could, fighting both car and wing to do so. Black scales peppered Crowley's face, dull and tarnished in his panic, 'Ok, not so good,' he said, turning his attention back to the road, 'Michael, fair warning, he's going to change. Serpent of Eden and all that. Problem is the size isn't always guaranteed, he doesn't really have much control over it. Could be any size, anything from a grass snake to something, well, more biblical shall we say. Just don't let him get a coil around you if he's on the larger size. Oh bugger the speed limit.'

The Bentley gave a grateful lurch as he hit the accelerator, placing his trust in the car's innate ability to keep itself out of harm's way. Between the feathers that had been obscuring his vision vanishing as quickly as they had appeared and Michael's shout of alarm, he knew the moment Crowley was no longer inhabiting his more common form. It was only in his darkest of nightmares that he reverted back to serpent form without any intent and Aziraphale painfully recalled the bruises he had sported after his first encounter one night not long after they had begun to share a bed. He only hoped Michael heeded his warning long enough to avoid getting trapped in the powerful coils as he sped through the winding streets towards Soho.

'He's a bloody snake!' cried the Archangel.

'What part of my warning didn't you understand?' he shouted back before dropping his voice, 'You need to stay calm. Loud noises upset him. Just avoid the coils...and the teeth.'

'It bites too?'

'He not it and yes, he does...will if you keep shouting at him. He's not venomous.'

'Oh that's a comfort. He'll just take my arm off instead,' she snapped, 'Oh Lord, he's moving. It's horrible. You married this?'

'Michael!'

He was more than grateful when the familiar streets of home came into view, swinging them round the corner and into the space that was never taken despite the streets being full. He silently thanked the car for getting them there in one piece, even if the Bentley itself had taken a beating. He hurried out of the car, pulling the seat forward and finally taking stock of the scene before him. Michael looked dishevelled and terrified amongst the litter of black feathers, pressed as close to the window as she could be as the great black snake took up the rest of the bench. Aziraphale was glad Crowley looked calm enough though he moved with some intent, clearly on his guard even if he was unsure what the threat was. 

'Alright, out you get,' he said to the Archangel, reaching out and gently lifting one of the heavy black coils off her leg where it had her pinned, 'Go inside and keep out of the way. I need to get him inside and I don't know how he is going to react. He might not remember we're working together right now and he won't take kindly to seeing you.'

'How are you going to manage?' she asked as she slipped from the car, her eyes still on the snake.

'I'll tell you when I've done it,' said Aziraphale, settling himself beside the door once she had passed him and focusing his attention on his husband, 'Crowley, darling, it's me. It's Aziraphale. We're home, I just need to get you inside if you'll let me carry you. You can stay like this as long as you need to. Lucifer told me what he did but I don't know what you're remembering right now, I'm just here to help you. Just trust me, my love.'

Slitted, golden eyes peaked out from between the coils, the expression unreadable but Aziraphale held out a hand without fear. He kept as still as he could as warm, smooth scales slid into his grip, growing smaller until he could be easily carried. Aziraphale hushed him, letting the coils wrap around his arm, bringing him in close to his own body in an effort to both protect and comfort him. He got to his feet, closing the door to the car as quietly as he could before he climbed the few stars to the bookshop. He closed the door, moving to lock it when Crowley hissed, dropping from his grip and growing larger as he hit the floor, moving swiftly to where Michael stood off to one side, not quite as well hidden from view as the angel had been hoping. 

He hurried to put himself between the demon and the Archangel, just as Crowley rose up with a hiss, fangs bared to strike. A moment of recognition flashed in the golden eyes but it was too late to slow the momentum, one long fang striking Aziraphale's arm as the snake fell upon them. His shout was enough to break through the nightmare holding onto Crowley, the snake dropping to the floor and morphing once more into his more familiar figure. 

'Angel?'

The mournful question was far more coherent than anything else the demon had said since he had disappeared with Lucifer and Aziraphale hoped for the briefest moment that he would finally get answers as to what had happened but the yellow eyes swiftly clouded once more, tears spilling with little care for the audience as he crumpled in on himself once more.

'Burning! It's burning,' he cried, 'It hurts. The darkness freezes. It burns, it burns. The fire. Help me.'

The blood staining his jacket and the puncture wound beneath meant nothing to Aziraphale as he took the tortured face in his hands, 'You're not burning, darling. It's just a memory. Just a horrible memory. You're safe and you're home. You're home with me and I'm going to keep you safe,' he said, pressing a hand to his forehead and feeling the heat there, 'You're thinking yourself into this but if it'll help let me get you upstairs. We've got through this before. You're not on your own, Crowley, and you're not burning. Come on.'

He paid no mind to Michael as he half lifted Crowley to his feet, the demon following him even as he still shuddered and cried out with every movement. The panic and the tears dimmed slightly as they haltingly climbed the stairs but he was still too disorientated for Aziraphale to risk letting him walk on his own. They bypassed the bedroom, heading to the bathroom down the hall. 

Aziraphale sat him down gently by the bathtub, the plush mat giving some protection against the tiled floor but he knew they would still both be aching if they forced to sit there for too long. Crowley's eyes were wide, the yellow of them bright and still unfocused as he looked around the room. The angel kneeled in front of him, holding his face as he pulled his focus back to him.

'Now then, look at me, darling,' he said softly, 'You know where you are right now. Our bathroom, upstairs at the bookshop. You're safe with me. I don't know what's in your head right now but you're going to be alright and I'm not going anywhere. Whatever you need, tell me if you can. If not I'll try to follow your lead. You aren't burning. The Fall was millennia ago but I know in your head it is still fresh and if Lucifer has given you back more memories then it is going to hurt, I know it is. I don't want you to get cold but if it will ease you let me get these off you.'

The angel's fingers trembled as he gently eased off Crowley's jacket and shirt, the passivity of the demon so alien that it made him worry all the more for his state of mind. They had been through the same routine several times since Aziraphale had first witnessed the nightmare that would sometimes plague him but once the demon had woken a little he was always an active participant in his own recovery, letting the angel lead but moving with him. The silent, scared figure before Aziraphale now was not the Crowley he knew but he would keep to the routine they had developed between them, hoping familiarity would be the key to pulling him back onto an even keel. 

He folded the jacket and shirt neatly, setting them on a chair as he got to his feet and headed to the sink, discarding his own jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves as he did. His arm smarted and he healed it crudely with a thought, promising himself he would pay better attention to it when Crowley was well. He let the water run until it was starting to warm slightly before wetting a cloth and returning to the floor, sitting beside the demon as he guided his head to his shoulder. He smoothed the cloth over his face and neck, all the while talking to him about the good memories they shared, grounding him in the present and their home. 

The panicked breathing finally began to slow, the slim body relaxing against him as he brought him out of the memory of the Fall. He set aside the cloth, instead running fingers through the long hair as his other hand held him close and protected. 

'Aziraphale?'

The angel smiled as the questioning tone sounded far more measured than it had previously, 'I'm here, dear,' he said, 'Are you coming back to me now?'

'Aziraphale? My Aziraphale?'

'Yes Crowley, darling,' he said, 'I'm here. You're going to feel a bit disorientated, it's taken me far longer to pull you out of it this time. Just rest.'

The demon shook his head, 'Yes. Crowley. I...he's me and I... my head hurts. I remember...'

Aziraphale stroked the long hair back from his face, 'Lucifer said he had returned your memories from before the Fall,' he said, 'I don't know what they were though, he didn't say. I wouldn't be surprised if everything is a little jumbled.'

Crowley's sudden movement threatened to send them both toppling to the mat below but the demon caught them both, capturing Aziraphale's face in his hands. The serpentine eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and joy, tears breaking from them and tumbling unchecked down his cheeks.

'You! It's you and we found each other and I remember. My Aziraphale,' he said, pressing his forehead to the angel's, 'I can't... my head's all in knots but you. It's definitely you. You were there and now you're here and you didn't Fall. You were saved.'

'Crowley dear, you're not making a jot of sense,' said Aziraphale, 'Calm down. The Fall was so long ago and you know I wasn't part of it. I was an angel when we met in Eden and I'm still an angel now. You've had a horrible recollection and if Lucifer has returned your memories of before the Fall then it's no wonder everything is confused. Just take your time. We're home and we're safe for now and I'm with you, whole and as much an angel as ever I was.' 

Crowley smiled, 'You were the most perfect angel,' he said, 'I know I'm not making sense but you don't know and I... so much pain but it's worth it for this. I did it for you and I'd do it again because you're here, we're here and I got so lucky. Fuck I got lucky. I... my head is killing me.'

Aziraphale pressed lightly against his hands, releasing their hold on him, 'Let's get you lying down, the cold floor is doing nothing for either of us and then we can try and get everything in order.'

'Wait,' said Crowley, a small smile curling his lips, 'In a moment. I just need... can I kiss you? Please, let me kiss you.'

'You don't normally ask permission,' said Aziraphale, 'And you know I'd never say no to you, even when you are speaking half in gibberish. You never have to ask for a kiss, my love.'

Warm lips met his but where he had expected a chaste peck in reassurance that the worst was over he was instead met with something fiercer. Long, slim arms encircled him and he returned the embrace just as strongly, responding to every desperate movement of Crowley's lips against his. It was a kiss that demanded as much as it gave, a kiss reminiscent of one night when the demon's dream had not been of the Fall but of the bookshop aflame and he had awoken crying his husband's name in desperation until Aziraphale had persuaded him that it had not once more engulfed them or taken him away. 

'I love you,' said Crowley as they parted, 'Aziraphale, I love you.'

'I know,' said the angel, 'And I love you. Now come on, let's get you somewhere more comfortable and then we can try and get everything in order.'

Crowley allowed himself to be pulled to standing, legs taking his weight without the need to rely on the angel but Aziraphale kept hold of him all the same. Concern starting to replace relief as he tried to fathom out the demon's half riddled words. He flicked a hand towards the bed as they entered, clean sheets swiftly covering the bed before they sat down on it. He grabbed a blanket from its place on the footboard, wrapping it around Crowley's shoulders and taking hold of his hands.

'Can you tell me what happened?' he said, 'When you went with Lucifer? All I heard was you screaming and when I finally got to you, you were so out of it and he said he had returned your memories of before the Fall. Was it true? Can you remember before?'

Crowley nodded, raising their joined hands to press a kiss to them, 'It's a little disjointed still but I remember,' he said, 'I remember me, who I was. I remember you.'

'We knew each other?' said Aziraphale, 'But surely I would have remembered you.'

Crowley frowned, golden eyes meeting blue in worry, 'Yeah, 'bout that, my fault. I made sure you didn't remember me. Wanted to keep you safe. Loved you even then.'

'Loved me?' said Aziraphale, 'In Heaven but we... I don't understand. I didn't even know your name the day we met in Eden.'

'Wasn't called Crawly in Heaven or even Crowley for that matter,' he said, 'Turns out when I was created my name was Raphael.'

'Raphael?' said Aziraphale turning to face him a little better, something that felt a little like memory reacting to the name but he couldn't link anything substantial to it, 'I can't remember anyone called Raphael.'

'That was the idea,' said Crowley, tugging on their joined hands, 'Lie down with me and I'll try and tell it as I remember it but, like I said, still a bit of mess in my head.'

Aziraphale went willingly, lying down on his customary side as Crowley stretched out next to him, pulling the blanket over them both as they lay face to face with scant inches between them. Long fingers found his, tugging his hand to rest against the demon's heart. The story began haltingly, Crowley having to go back over details as they connected in his own mind but it soon started to make sense. The angel stayed as quiet as he could, even as questions begged to be asked, knowing that Crowley needed to tell the story in full for his own benefit. He could not doubt the sincerity of the words, knowing Crowley would never spin such a tale and he was unsure whether to mourn for the love he could not remember or rejoice that they had somehow found one another even after Crowley had fallen. The worry over such detail though was fleeting as the darker parts of the tale were revealed.

He wanted to protest that God would never have bred a generation of angels to abandon them so coldly but in his heart of hearts he knew the truth of it, Lucifer fated long before his creation. It was Crowley's halting retelling of his imprisonment as the Prince of Heaven that broke heart, tears falling as he listened to his beloved speak of the pain and loneliness he had felt encased in the trappings of gold and jewels. He wanted to protest as the demon revealed how he had left him in Eden, memories stolen in the hope of saving him before he had gone to confront God, but all he could do was grip onto the trembling form next to him as the truth behind his fall from grace was finally told. He wasn't sure how long they both cried, loss and pain mixing with relief that they had somehow found one another again even when so much had been stacked against them.

'Can you give them back to me?' asked Aziraphale when they had calmed enough to speak again, 'My memories. I don't doubt what you tell me but I want to remember.'

Crowley shook his head, 'Still too fuzzy and I don't know if I can. I'm not an angel any more even if I remember being one,' he said, 'It hurt when Lucifer did it to me and I can't cause you pain, not more than I have done.'

Aziraphale stroked his long hair, 'It only pains me that I lost you, that you were put in such a position for my sake,' he said, 'You were in such an impossible situation. You should have let me...'

Crowley pressed a hand to his lips, 'Don't you dare say I should have let you fall,' he said, 'I don't care how much it hurt, I would do it again and again to keep you from it. I'm only grateful that it worked, that She didn't take Her revenge out on you. If you'd been hurt... The last thing I remember is being so scared for you.'

'Oh darling, you know I was alright,' said Aziraphale, 'Let that fear go. Heaven wasn't kind to me but I was alright. I remember waking in Eden, not knowing where I was or why I was there and the next thing I know Gabriel is telling me I have guardianship over the Eastern Gate and the rest you know as well as I do.'

'You're not angry with me?' said Crowley.

'Why would I be? You said I gave you permission to take my memories. If I'm angry with anyone...let's just say if we do find God I have a few questions for Her,' he said, 'I'm sad for you, my love, but not angry. I was right though, you really were one of the most beautiful of the angels. My husband was one of the Seraphim.'

Crowley's laugh was weak but he smiled all the same, 'Was being the key word there. Doesn't matter how high I was, I fell just as far as the others. I'm just a demon now.'

'You have never been just a demon,' said Aziraphale sharply, 'You're so much more, my love. You know I've always seen that, from the moment we met each other again. I so want to remember before. I can't even remember our first kiss.'

'If I find a way I will return your memories,' promised Crowley, 'I want you to know just how dear you were to me. You saw me even then. You saw Raphael when every one else just saw that... thing She wanted me to be.'

Aziraphale frowned, fingers knotting into Crowley's hair and trying to imagine it contained within the jewelled halo God had trapped him with, 'And now... I've only known you as Crowley but you're Raphael.'

'I'm Crowley,' said the demon, 'Raphael's a memory. I'm your Crowley and I don't want to be anyone else. Please don't let this change that.'

Aziraphale kissed the tear tracks on his cheeks that were yet to dry, 'I promised you I would love you however you choose to be,' he said, 'Whatever makes you happy is my mission in life. You can be whoever you wish to be but know that I will protect you from one identity with everything I have. As long as I have strength and life in me you will never be caged again, you will never be called a Prince to find yourself a prisoner. I would fall a thousand times to prevent that.'

'Angel.'

The word was weighted with so many emotions but Aziraphale felt them all and answered them the only way he could, dragging the demon the scant distance across the bed to kiss him. He mourned for the memories he did not have but he knew that regardless of whether he recovered them or not the love he felt for the demon in his arms was unchanged.


	9. Common Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley, Aziraphale and Michael struggle to work with Lucifer in the pursuit of God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who is reading.

Michael sat on the doorstep of the bookshop, a foot propped against one of the pillars as she leaned back against the closed door. The paper cup in her hand felt odd but she had been grateful for the tea it contained when the young woman from the cafe across the road had brought it to her- compliments she was given to understand from a gentleman who had been sitting in the window but Michael had little inclination to dial the number that had been scribbled across the cup. Still, it had proven a welcome relief to have something to do as she sat watching the world role by. 

It took her a moment to realise that she was in fact seeing Beelzebub and the currently chosen form of Lucifer himself heading along the path towards the shop, both of them dressed in far closer to human clothes than she had ever seen them but still people took a double take as they passed, their movements all too fluid and determined even in the busy London streets. She got to her feet as they approached, forcing away the twinge of pain in her back and hoping to feign at least a show of strength. 

'Michael,' said Lucifer with a small bow as he reached the steps, 'Forgive the unannounced arrival.'

'You hardly sent word ahead this morning,' she said, her eyes flicking between the Lord of Hell and his second, 'To what do we owe the pleasure?'

'We need to continue our discussion from this morning.'

Michael bit back a smirk, 'You will need to wait a while, the owners of the establishment are otherwise engaged.'

'I'm afraid whatever they have to discuss needs to wait,' said Lucifer, 'We have pressing business.'

'You can be the one to tell them,' she said, reaching for the door and opening it just enough to allow the sounds that had driven her from the bookshop to echo out into the busy street, 'They may not choose to thank you.'

Beelzebub paled, 'They aren't...' she sputtered, 'Do angels do that?'

'On occasion,' said Michael, closing the door as Lucifer stepped back onto the stoop, 'But not usually with demons.'

Lucifer chuckled, 'Well the memories I returned have clearly not had too many adverse effects,' he said, 'We can allow them a few more moments.'

Michael folded her arms as she leaned back against the pillar, 'I've been out here over an hour,' she said, 'I think I preferred the bad screaming we had in the car. Thanks for that by the way, you could have least sent us back here in a manner that didn't have us risking discorporation by wing or snake. So far today I have been cried on by a demon, smacked in the face by a wing, squashed by a snake, nearly bitten by the same damned snake, forgotten about in a dry old bookshop and to end it all I got the prelude of what you just heard. The trauma will be eternal.'

'I don't ever want to hear anything like that again,' said Beelzebub, 'It's not natural.'

Lucifer only laughed harder at them, 'The great warrior and a most feared demon, you are indeed,' he said. 

'I don't see you going inside,' said Michael, 'Oh Lord of Hell.'

She feared for a moment she had grown a little too bold in her weakened state as fierce red eyes turned on her before he reached for the handle, looking almost as pale as Beelzebub as he pressed down on it and stepped inside.

xxxx

Crowley sighed, eyes fluttering closed as fingers trailed through his hair, Aziraphale's heart beating a rapid tattoo beneath his ear. His own fingers painted senseless glyphs across the pale skin beneath him, the path one well studied after nearly four years as the angel's lover. Warm lips pressed to his forehead and he smiled, seeking his husband's free hand and entwining their fingers together, tugging them to his lips and returning the kiss. He was content to fall into some semblance of sleep when the fingers in his hair stilled their gentle path and he felt the faint huff of laughter beneath him.

'I don't know if I should be offended that you're laughing after that,' he said, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at the angel, 'What's so funny?'

Aziraphale nodded above his head, 'How on earth did your sock end up on the lampshade?'

Crowley looked up, seeing the offending black article dangling from the unlit shade, 'You were the one who flung it up there,' he said, 'Got no idea where my trousers went.'

'Dresser I think,' said Aziraphale, 'Though I was in rather a rush.'

Crowley grinned, 'Really? Hadn't noticed,' he said, returning to his comfortable place against his chest.

'You need talk, my darling,' came the response, fingers tugging playfully on his hair, 'Wicked boy.'

'Not so much of the boy now, fledgling,' said Crowley, 'Don't think I'm going to let you act like you're more grown up than me now I know that I am definitely the elder out of the two of us.'

'There's a difference between being grown up and being older,' said Aziraphale, 'And if you're so old perhaps I should go easy on you in future.'

'Don't you bloody dare,' said Crowley, shifting until he could rest his chin on a fist, staring up into the sated blue eyes before him, 'I did always think I was a bit older. I could remember little bits about the stars being built but it was never clear. It's all still a bit mixed up. My memories as Raphael are more like watching a film, I know he's me but he's not as well.'

'You've spent longer as Crowley than you ever did as Raphael,' he said, 'Though I suppose time is relative in that sense. It didn't really exist until it did. We could have been alive for thousands of years before Eden and not known it, the concept wasn't there.'

'I know I was with you for a long time,' said Crowley, 'We were very close. Maybe that's why I went to you on the wall. I saw you there without your sword and it made me curious but I knew you could still hurt me all the same. Something about you made me risk speaking with you though. I think what was left of my heart was reaching for you even if I didn't know it.'

Tears quickly pooled in Aziraphale's eyes and he blinked them away, 'Don't say things like that, you'll set me off again,' he said, 'So many what ifs. It tears me to bits just thinking about it. One misstep and we...'

'We made it though,' said Crowley, shifting until he was better cradled in his husband's arms, burying his face against his neck, 'I don't care how long it took, I got you back.'

'And now you are truly stuck with me,' said Aziraphale the words light but Crowley could hear the catch behind them. 

'Wouldn't be anywhere else,' said the demon, raising his head enough to capture the lips already waiting for him as Aziraphale's fingers knotted into his hair.

'Tender as I am sure this moment is, your presence is required downstairs. Though may I suggest some clothes, Michael's sensitivities have been quite stretched enough.'

Aziraphale yelped, arms tightening around Crowley as the demon pulled away from their kiss but only enough to look over his shoulder to the Lord of Hell stood in the doorway. 

'We'll be down shortly. You can get the tea on,' he said before he freed a hand enough to click his fingers, the door slamming shut in Lucifer's face, 'Where were we?'

Aziraphale's hands in his hair stilled him, 'You just slammed the door on Satan,' he said, blue eyes wide, 'I might not be completely up to speed on the customs of Hell but slamming the door on the demon in charge strikes me as having a rather large, underlined, no written beside it.'

Crowley grinned, 'If he did not want to have a door slammed in his face he shouldn't be lurking in bedroom doorways,' he said, stroking a hand down the angel's side, 'Besides, no one gets to see you naked but me.'

'You cannot possibly be getting...frisky when we're potentially about to be...'

Crowley laughed, 'Will you relax,' he said, 'There are customs indeed but when he returned my memories he also broke my chains so I'm no longer under his command. He won't be happy but if he intended any retribution we wouldn't be having this conversation.'

Aziraphale relaxed slightly but then blushed crimson, 'We left Michael downstairs! Oh goodness...and the door...'

Crowley's gentle laugh became full blown, rolling off the angel and onto his back, 'Oh don't! My stomach muscles have already had enough of a workout,' he said, slowly calming, 'Well she's got no doubt that we're married now.'

'Oh you are wicked,' said Aziraphale, though there was a huff of laughter in his voice, 'We should get up.'

Crowley groaned but swung his legs over the side of the bed, stumbling slightly as he stood, 'You've broken me,' he said, steadying himself on the night stand.

Aziraphale chuckled, 'It's because you're so old.'

Crowley shot a playful scowl over his shoulder, 'How much mileage are you planning to get out of this?' he said, a click of his fingers restoring his usual attire as he ran his fingers through his hair, fussing the strands into place.

'The rest of our lives probably,' said Aziraphale, leaving the bed and following suit, his clothing quickly restored but he tutted as he saw the bloody rip on his coat, 'Oh bother, I'd forgotten about that.'

'Blood?' said Crowley, clambering over the bed to take hold of the sleeve, 'How did that happen? Wait... I remember... did I catch you? I didn't realise I'd hurt you. Aziraphale, I'm sorry.'

The angel waved him away, a click of his fingers restoring the coat to its former glory, 'It was nothing. You were distressed and I got in the way.'

'Still...'

'Still nothing, darling. No permanent harm done. I healed the wound earlier and merely forgot about the coat,' said Aziraphale, cupping the demon's face in his hands and kissing him quickly, 'Now come on, time to face whatever mortification awaits us downstairs.'

Crowley climbed off the bed with a snort, 'They're just jealous,' he said, holding out his hand, 'Come on.'

He led the angel to the door, opening it and heading towards the stairs, voices echoing up from below.

'Beelzebub?' said Aziraphale, his grip tightening on Crowley's hand, 'I'm not sure if we're not walking into something we don't want to.'

'Maybe it's due to my memories but I trust Lucifer. Keep close to me though, ok.'

The descended into the bookshop, Michael the first to glance up from the table that had been freshly set for tea. Crowley grinned at the faint blush on her cheeks, leading Aziraphale over to the table. 

'Glad you could finally join us,' said Lucifer from his place beside Aziraphale's desk, 'I am sorry if the ending of reality interrupted more basic pursuits.'

Crowley pulled out a chair, motioning for Aziraphale to sit, 'Nothing basic about it,' he said, pressing a kiss to the platinum blond curls before him, 'My husband is an artist. Besides, I now recall another who was known to desert duty in pursuit of pleasure. Lucifer.'

Even Aziraphale who had heard the story of their past from Crowley look on incredulous as he crossed the room to the dark haired demon, clasping the hand that was swiftly extended to him. 

'It is good to see you with waking eyes after so long,' said Crowley.

'We will have much to discuss when our work is done,' said Lucifer, 'But I am glad to have you know me again. Forgive me for the trauma of the return. I understand from Michael that it was not an easy process.'

'It is worth it to know,' said Crowley, loosing his hand and returning to the table, dragging a chair closer to Aziraphale's and sitting down beside him, 'Can you do the same for Aziraphale? I took his memories of me before I returned to Heaven that day.'

Lucifer shook his head as he too took a seat next to Beelzebub, 'Sadly it must be the taker who returns them to do so safely and I would not want to try otherwise, especially with an angel.'

'Why do I feel as though I am missing something?' said Michael.

'You and me both,' said Beelzebub, her pose reminiscent of a teenager forced to sit properly at a table, more out of place than any of the others gathered.

Crowley sighed, 'Perhaps you could deliver the shorter version,' he said to Lucifer, 'I am still putting things in order.'

Lucifer nodded, a wave of his hand having the tea pouring itself into cups as he spoke, 'There is too much history to tell all now but suffice to say that everything you know of the Fall is only a half truth. Only three hundred rebelled under my command, you will remember so much Beelzebub, you and Dagon were two of the first to join with me. The others who fell did so because they had been created to do so. The truth was known to all in Heaven in the end but whatever power God used when She forced us out affected the memories not only of those who fell but those who remained in Heaven also. Perhaps She did not want those remaining to remember those lost as more than rebels who deserved their fate but I think there is also much tied up with the loss She did not expect to have that day. What you will not remember, Raphael...'

'Raphael?' said Beelzebub, 'Who is Raphael?'

Crowley offered her a wave, 'That would be me but Crowley is preferred if we can stick to that.'

'You will forgive me, excuse the expression, if I do not manage,' said Lucifer, 'I shall back track slightly for those who don't know. In Heaven, Crowley was known as Raphael, one of the Seraphim, creator of the stars and the architect of Eden. Many would most likely remember him however by the title of the Prince of Heaven.'

Michael barked out a humourless laugh, 'This is some elaborate joke,' she said, 'The Prince cannot be a demon. He ascended before the Fall. He was at God's side.'

'And where was he when you yourself stood before Gabriel to protect God?' said Lucifer, 'You have been fed falsehoods for millennia. The Prince was lauded by God as the epitome of divine grace, something for all angels to aspire to. She wished for something to distract the masses from the unrest. The truth was though that he was caged.'

'Lucifer, please,' said Aziraphale as Crowley's hand took hold of his.

'The truth is not without pain,' said Lucifer, 'But necessary. God placed Raphael in a cage, one he should have not been able to break but he did and he did it because he found a love greater than God in another angel. Such a slight, especially when he stole the angel away from Heaven to protect him from the Fall, could not be tolerated and the Prince was cast out with the rest of us.'

Michael shook her head, 'I cannot believe it. The Prince...'

'Is a legend,' said Lucifer, 'She changed what you remembered to better control you. Yes they fell but he ascended, your jewelled prince stands on God's right hand, aspire to him even though I threw him down.'

'And I should believe this from you?' said Michael.

Lucifer spread his hands, 'I can offer you no proof other than my word but I am a demon,' he said, 'Think on this though. Do you remember when we called each other brother and sister? Raphael and I called you little sister. Do you remember when angels joined hands? Sang together?'

Michael frowned, 'When I was new I remember but it changed,' she said before she shook her head, 'But if we all forgot, why do you remember?'

Lucifer shrugged, 'I am the Lord of Hell, God's equivalent Below. She needed me to know, She wanted me to remember. Perhaps that was my punishment. They others fall and forget, I fall and remember what I lost. I remember the love I can no longer feel,' he said before he shook his head, 'Another question for you though. What about Aziraphale? It is well noted that he has been ill treated by you and your brethren for many years. Why?'

'He...' began Michael, her eyes finding the angel before she looked away, 'I don't know but I don't deny it. He was always different.'

'An angel born to fall,' said Crowley, tightening his grip on Aziraphale's hand, 'Different indeed.'

'Also one who had inadvertently wronged God,' said Lucifer, 'I think She would have thrown you down with us Aziraphale, had you been in Heaven. Had Raphael not thought to hide you. After the loss of Her Prince though, I don't think She could but as such your life has been as it has been. Punished for a crime you did not realise you were committing.'

Crowley shook his head, 'There is no crime in love, Lucifer.'

'In Her eyes there was and he was punished by neglect, sent to Earth and the Archangels programmed to treat him poorly,' said Lucifer, 'She is not merciful, brother.'

'Then why are we here talking about getting Her back,' said Beelzebub.

'Because She is necessary and She is fair, in her treatment of the humans at least. Gabriel is not. Gabriel is dangerous and his work has already begun,' said Lucifer, 'Hell was designed to receive the unworthy souls and so it has done but the rules, the reasons why the souls come to us have grown as humanity has grown. Heaven and Hell have adapted to the moral code humans have set for themselves. This morning though, just after you left, I was made aware that we had received the soul of ninety-one year old man. Widowed, a charity worker in his latter years, loyal, good, hard working, sadly mourned by those remaining. Why then in Hell? When he was twelve he stole three lumps of coal because his mother was freezing.'

Aziraphale's brow furrowed, 'But he would not be damned for so small a crime.'

'Thou shalt not steal,' said Lucifer.

Crowley growled, 'Fuck the Old Testament.'

'Must you,' said Michael, flinching at his words.

Aziraphale shook his head, 'But that was...before. That kind of doctrine has long since passed. Things have changed, they can't...'

'Gabriel is the master of Heaven now, not God. The rules are as Gabriel pleases and it seems the humans will suffer for it,' said Lucifer.

'What do you care if it is more souls for your demonic work?' said Michael, 'I thought you'd be happy about that and you are hardly famed for caring for the humans. You job is to hate them and work against Heaven.'

Beelzebub shook her head, 'Our job is to hate angels and work against the humans.'

'Our job is neither,' said Lucifer, 'Though it has been the custom thus far. The reality is more complex. I am Lord in Hell. I was created to be the Lord of Hell and rule over the balance of Man. The balance of Man must therefore be the antithesis of Heaven. The custom as we have all grown used to, is the the good ascend, the wicked are mine. The distinction of what is good and what is wicked is so determined by the humans who evolve as their world does. In Gabriel's hands however, Heaven is imposing its own moral code. Heaven is becoming wicked, therefore Hell...'

'You cannot be serious!' said Beelzebub before a look from her master had her dropping her gaze, 'Sorry.'

'I don't understand,' said Aziraphale, 'It can't just flip like that. We're angels, you're demons and I don't mean that with any disrespect but it can't be that demons are suddenly a force for good and angels for evil regardless of who rules in Heaven.'

Lucifer shook his head, 'Too black and white a view, young one. It is not nearly as simple as that. God and I had an understanding and though I broke ranks on many occasions, we balanced. Gabriel has broken the rules and reality has convulsed. We must restore order and to do that, we restore God.'

Crowley hissed, Aziraphale covering their joined hands with his free one. Beelzebub glowered at those gathered as Michael sat looking torn, haunted by Lucifer's tales but she was the first to speak.

'How do we find Her? I lost Her.'

'The prophecies, I hope,' said Aziraphale, 'They've proved a road map so far. The last said names would be revealed at the breaking of chains. Lucifer broke Crowley's chains when he let him remember Raphael.'

'Quite,' said Lucifer, 'They are our best chance but finding Her is not enough. To restore Her, faith in Her must be restored.'

'And how do we do that?' said Michael, 'I was there. The angels, they were all on Gabriel's side.'

'Fear is a powerful thing,' said Lucifer, 'Gabriel has had a high position and he is clever at spreading his poison. He did so against Raphael, every ear I spoke into had already heard from him. Oh he spoke against me, of course, but his focus was the Prince. He was jealous and he hated the indulgence, he hated that Raphael was the one chosen to walk through Heaven, decorated by the Lord.'

'He was more than welcome to take that halo from my head,' said Crowley, 'Let him be caged.'

'Would that he had done, brother. His words were poison in every ear, including God's. I do not think She would have been as brutal had he not painted the love you and Aziraphale shared as a threat to Her,' said Lucifer, 'He wanted your place Raphael and now he has usurped Her's in his ambition. Now he has the power of Heaven but he is still only an Archangel who has taken the throne of the rightful queen and set himself up as king. We must therefore do as the humans have done whenever their monarchs have been dethroned. She is not supported enough to be returned alone but we can give them another. Someone with a stronger claim to the throne than he has. We can give them a prince. The Prince.'

Crowley shot to his feet, backing away from the table, 'No! No, never! I will not be that thing again, Lucifer. You saw me. I cannot be caged again. I can't bear that pain again.'

'You would only need to appear...'

'Did you not hear him?' snapped Aziraphale, heading to Crowley's side, 'He said no. So no it is and you will not push it.'

Lucifer's expression darkened, red eyes glowing as the room cooled around them, 'You forget to whom you speak, Principality,' he said, 'We need to take back Heaven and Raphael is the key.'

'Crowley is not going to be forced into anything,' said the angel, 'You will respect his wishes or so help me...'

It took only a brief movement of Lucifer's hand for Aziraphale to find himself thrown against the bookshelf and held there, precious tomes falling from the shelves.

'Let him go,' cried Crowley, 'Lucifer let him go. Let him go!'

The last words were more than a shout, the whole room shaking with the power of them, cutting through Lucifer's power and releasing Aziraphale who only just managed to catch himself as he fell. Crowley's breath came ragged as the shaking ceased and he paled, gripping onto the chair to keep himself upright. 

'What was that?' said Beelzebub, eyes wide with shock as she looked between the demon and her master.

'Your memories have reawakened some of your power,' said Lucifer, 'Angelic fury in the body of a demon.'

'I was stronger than you back then,' said Crowley, 'And I will be stronger than you now if you dare touch him again. You no longer hold my chains Lucifer and I doubt you could reforge them alone. Now we need you, you know more than the rest of us. We have to restore God for all I wish we didn't and for that we are going to have to work together but there are going to be rules. We do not use our powers against each other and you will not threaten me with the Prince again. I will not submit to it again. I will not have my spirit put in a cage, I will not even wear the adornments and pretend. I hate it and I will hate it for eternity.'

'I may not be able to reforge your chains but your power does not yet equal mine,' said Lucifer, 'Do not think you can stand there and make demands of me when I can kill you in an instant.'

Crowley didn't get a chance to respond before Michael was stood in front of him, her body between him and Lucifer, 'You'll have to kill me first,' she said, a semblance of her former strength making itself known before she stumbled, Crowley's hand wrapping around her arm the only thing keeping her upright, 'For all my life is worth now.'

The fire in Lucifer's eyes dimmed, 'You show your hand quite decidedly,' he said, fingers curling into a fist before he sat back down, 'Perhaps I spoke a little hastily. We have many things to discuss, not least how to find God before we work out how we will return the balance of power in Heaven.'

'You ok?' said Crowley as he sat Michael back in her chair.

She nodded, 'Just not as strong as I was. See to Aziraphale.'

The demon pointedly ignored Lucifer and Beelzebub, heading to where Aziraphale stood by the bookcase, the few tomes that had fallen lying forlornly at his feet, 'Angel?'

Blue eyes met his, the expression in them wavering between fear and awe, 'How did you... I've never heard anything like that,' he said, before he dropped his voice to a whisper, 'It was scary. You've never done that before.'

'I think it's a little bit of old me creeping through,' said Crowley, 'You alright?'

Aziraphale nodded, 'What do we do now?'

'Look at the prophecies, find God and get this over with as quickly as we can,' said Crowley, 'We're going to need your clever head. You know them better than all of us.'

'You sure?' said the angel, 'We can walk away.'

'We both know we can't,' said Crowley, leading him back to the table and sitting them both down, 'Prophecies only.'

Lucifer nodded, 'Agreed,' he said, 'Perhaps we can review those that have yet to come to pass.'

A click of Crowley's fingers brought the papers to the table before he set them in front of Aziraphale, 'Can you take us through your translations?'

The angel nodded, checking over the list before him, 'It appears that six of the prophecies have already been played out,' he said, 'The last being about Crowley and his chains being broken when his name was returned to him. The rest are just as short. Next says she will fall upon king's rest, five centuries too late. A fall could relate to God there but we will need to make sense of it. Next, rivals will steal into the halls of men. Brothers will stand united once more. The next one concerns me most at the moment, it says he will seek to harm the child. My mind constantly goes to Adam but we have Anathema's child to consider as well.'

'Anathema?' said Lucifer.

'Our prophetess,' said Crowley, 'She's pregnant. These prophecies seems to have coincided with that and if Gabriel finds out he may want revenge.'

'My son would be a prime target as well,' said Lucifer, 'He is still powerful. Beelzebub, return to Hell and arrange for him to be watched, protected if necessary. Try to find a few with at least half a brain and some tact. They are not to scare him.'

Crowley met Aziraphale's eyes, a nod all he needed to know they were thinking the same before he spoke, 'Anathema lives in the same village,' he said, 'Can the protection be extended?'

Lucifer nodded, 'Full name?'

'Anathema Pulsifer-Device,' said Aziraphale, 'American. You can't miss her.'

Lucifer spared a look at Beelzebub, 'Get to it,' he said, 'Then return to me.'

Beelzebub got to her feet with a bow before heading for the door without a farewell to any of the others gathered. 

With the potential threat being dealt with they turned their attentions to the remaining prophecies, all of them trying to fathom what they meant and how it would lead them to God. Crowley helped where he could, fetching books for Aziraphale when he requested them but nothing in the shop seemed to be of help. His concentration was weak though, memories assaulting him at every turn as he caught sight of Lucifer moving around the shop, as Michael pulled a pin from her hair letting it fall long down her back as she had worn it in the early days of Heaven, as Aziraphale's brow furrowed as he studied a book as it had done when he had first explored the plants in Eden. The walls seemed to close in and he needed space, catching Aziraphale's attention long enough to tell him where he was heading before he climbed the stairs, not stopping until he stepped out onto the roof.

Tending the garden he had diligently grown did little to ease him, moving aimlessly amongst the plants as remembrances of Eden jostled for place in his mind. The chaise was a welcome relief as he sank down onto it, head buried in his hands as he fought to stave off the pain that threatened him. He considered returning downstairs, Aziraphale's hands always able to calm even the most painful of headaches whenever the nightmares left him suffering but he did not want to distract the angel from his task. He had no desire to meet with God again, the memories of his final punishment too raw to even fathom seeing Her but he knew that it had to be done, Gabriel too sinister a foe to allow dominion over Heaven and it would only be so long before he and Aziraphale were victims of his machinations. 

He heard the door to the terrace creak open behind him, the footsteps unfamiliar but the voice unmistakable. 

'You created a garden.'

'Seems I am good at that,' said Crowley, not looking up, 'Come to finish what you started downstairs?'

Lucifer sighed, 'I am not accustomed to apologies but I am sorry for my conduct. I should not have threatened Aziraphale but at least we know you can tap back into some of your old strength.'

Crowley stiffened at the words, 'What are you truly hoping to gain from this Lucifer?' he said, finally looking up at the figure that had once been the epitome of divine grace, the brother he had fledged with, laughed with and stood with before the end.

'The restoration of God to Heaven,' said Lucifer, touching a finger lightly to the leaf on the nearby bay tree, 'You know I never desired Her power.'

'A lot has changed since we knew each other,' said Crowley, 'We weren't demons then. There was love in us then, love for Her. You were kinder back then, warmer. Now you're like winter, bitter and sharp.'

Lucifer smiled ruefully, 'You were a poet when we were young too,' he said, 'I cannot deny that I have changed. We all did. It was part of the power that cast us out. Only you seemed to retain the power to love and I think it was the memory of Aziraphale, however buried, that made sure of that.'

Crowley frowned, recalling how quickly he had spotted the blond haired angel when he had been sent to do his master's bidding in Eden, something in the way he carried himself making the demon feel able to approach him on the wall to watch Adam and Eve depart.

'Was it intentional?' he asked, 'Sending me to Eden.'

Lucifer nodded, 'You were charming enough, even as a demon, to tempt Eve to the apple but that wasn't the reason I sent you,' he said, 'Despite the memories I had taken, you suffered more in the dark than the others. We were all in pain but you... the torment was too much. What little mercy I had left in me prompted me to return you to some semblance of light, to somewhere that might soothe you even though you had forgotten it. The Temptation was preordained you know, in a way. It was meant to befall their children, Cain and Abel so named, but I was still angry, vengeful and so I sent you early. Tempt Her humans before She could even enjoy them.'

'And Aziraphale?'

'I did not know he would be there,' said Lucifer, 'I assumed he would be found and cast out to join us in Hell. No, your meeting with him again was purely coincidence.'

'Coincidence or...' Crowley pointed a finger skyward but they both knew he meant further.

Lucifer shook his head, 'I don't think She would. She was angry that you loved him, that you chose him. I don't think Her gaze was on either of you that day,' he said, 'I don't think She even spared a second glance to Aziraphale until he got noisy. I imagine then, She realised who you were. She commanded me that you were to be unharmed after your and Aziraphale's little swap thwarted the first punishments that the others tried to administer.'

Crowley felt a knot form in his gut, 'You knew from the beginning I imagine,' he said, 'But what if we hadn't swapped?'

'When Beelzebub told me what she planned for you I was planning to step in at the last minute until I realised there was an angel wearing your face and shaming my demons for their foolishness. I would have thought She was on hand to do the same were it needed for Aziraphale though I have never asked. By then I am certain She knew who you were. She knows you're Raphael and I think that is why She did not condemn your marriage.'

'Neither did She bless it,' said Crowley, 'But why even allow our love now?'

Lucifer shrugged, 'She did not plan to lose you that day and maybe time has softened Her thoughts to the pair of you.'

Silence descended, Lucifer examining the plants that surrounded them but Crowley felt his eyes return to him again and again before the Lord of Hell finally spoke.

'I can no longer feel love,' he said, sitting on the chaise beside Crowley, pale hands folded in his lap, 'But I remember it. I have missed you, my brother.'

Crowley studied the profile next to him, his memory slipping the softer image of Lucifer's younger self over the pale visage he now wore, 'Yet you've hidden my past for all these years.'

'You would have suffered with the memories, both of Raphael and the Prince,' said Lucifer, 'And you forget I did not know how you and Aziraphale parted. Once I realised you had found one another again I did not think it wise to give you back remembrance of your past love in case it coloured the new. In truth I have only returned them now out of necessity.'

'Will I ever not be a puppet on someone's string?'

'You are free now Raphael, Hell does not chain you and Heaven has no claim.'

'We shall see,' said Crowley, before he allowed himself a small smile, 'You look like him a bit. Adam I mean. He's a good kid. Reminds me, now anyway, of how you were in Heaven. Always into something you shouldn't be.'

Lucifer laughed, 'I am glad he has found a companion in you,' he said, 'I hope he is alright and that Beelzebub doesn't send anyone that will frighten him.'

'Doesn't easily scare, that one,' said Crowley, 'And we could be wrong. We've made the wrong assumptions on several of the prophecies already. We could be wrong about him.'

Lucifer nodded, 'We shall see,' he said, echoing Crowley's words from moments before, 'We should return and help Michael and Aziraphale. Two unattended angels, probably already formed a choir by now.'

Crowley couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, 'I remember how you loathed the singing in Heaven,' he said, as they got to their feet, 'Do you remember when we used to go a deliberately stand with the Archangels and hit the wrong notes, threw them right off... oh!'

'What?' said Lucifer, holding open the door back to the building.

'Nothing,' said Crowley, 'Just memories, one minute their fuzzy and the next it's like I'm there. We were so young.'

'We were foolish children,' said Lucifer, 'But I am glad someone else remembers as I do now.'

Crowley preceded him down the stairs, questions wanting to force their way passed his lips but he bit them back, knowing once they began they would not stop and he still did not fully trust the demon at his side despite their shared past. 

He had barely stepped into the back room of the bookshop when he was met by Aziraphale, stuffing the sleek black laptop Crowley now kept in the desk drawer into his hands. 

'Do the thing with it,' said the angel, 'The oogle boogle thing where you find stuff. We think we've got it. Michael thought of it. Well she didn't think of it but she said the prophecies weren't exactly Shakespeare.'

Crowley gave him a blank look as he followed him back to the table, Lucifer not far behind, 'Angel, you've lost me. What about Shakespeare?'

'Just get me the oogle boogle thing, I need to look something up and it's not in the books.'

Crowley rolled his eyes, 'I will drag you into the twenty-first century one day, I swear it,' he said, opening the laptop and starting it up, navigating to a search engine once it was awake, 'What am I looking up?'

'Richard the Third,' said Aziraphale.

'The King?' said Crowley, with a frown, 'We're not back on usurped princes are we?'

'No,' said Michael, 'King Richard, where did he die?'

'Bosworth,' said Crowley, 'I was a bloody horse, not quite sure which side I was on by the end. Sodded off before they started cutting heads.'

Lucifer scowled, 'You were meant to be protecting Henry Tudor.'

Crowley grinned, 'Oh look, my chains are broken,' he quipped, before tapping on the screen, 'Right I have about forty-five million articles on Richard the Third of England. What am I looking for other than where he snuffed it?'

'Not so much where he died,' said Aziraphale, 'Where was he buried? They moved him, recently.'

'Wasn't there something about a car park?' said the demon, 'But then... Michael, you bloody genius. They buried him again.'

'Five hundred years later,' said Aziraphale, 'It was, I swear it was.'

'In Leicester,' said Crowley, 'There's news articles.'

'She will fall upon King's rest, five centuries too late,' quoted Aziraphale, 'That's where God is.'

'Are we sure?' said Lucifer, 'We need to be sure.'

'See if there is anything about someone falling or an injury near to the burial site. A woman, we have to assume She had corporeal form when She fell.'

Crowley's fingers moved swiftly over the keys, 'Look here, Leicester Mercury, dated yesterday. Police seeking witnesses in regards to injuries sustained by unknown female on steps of Leicester Cathedral. It fits, it really does.'

'Does it say where they took her?' asked Michael.

'Shut up, all of you,' snapped Lucifer suddenly, a finger raised to the ceiling, 'Listen.'

The faintest sound of movement echoed from above, footsteps though they were almost lost. 

'Shut that thing down,' said Lucifer, 'And grab the prophecies, keep them close. We've got company.'


	10. Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With God's suspected location in hand, they journey to find Her but tensions between Michael and Lucifer threaten to derail their unlikely alliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented. I will respond to you very soon but I have run out of time tonight. Updates may be a little less frequent going forward as I'm now off my writing 'summer holiday' and back to promoting and writing my own original fiction so I won't have quite as many hours for this fic but I will try to keep to one update a week.

They all stood still, Aziraphale clutching both the prophecies and the laptop tight to him as the footsteps echoed above. Though they could hear the movement no one descended and Crowley nodded towards the door. Lucifer risked a look towards the shop front and shook his head, several silhouettes of too pale outfits framed in the grimy windows.

'We're being herded, they keep changing places,' he whispered, 'Let's not make it easy for them. Raphael, stay with Michael, she's weakest.'

'Get her downstairs,' said Aziraphale, Crowley's hands on the sofa before the final word had left his husband's mouth. He pulled it aside slowly, revealing the concealed trap door beneath. It opened with a pull, the ladder below looking ancient but serviceable. 

'Protect him,' said Crowley to Lucifer as he handed Michael down into the hole before following her, closing the trap door behind them.

Lucifer manoeuvred the sofa back into place, 'Hide those, quickly now,' he said, 'I will be hidden but within reach, try to get rid of them.'

Aziraphale stashed the precious books and the laptop into a half empty box beneath his desk, grabbing another pile of books and placing them on top before kicking it deeper into the shadows, sitting down in the chair to better conceal them. He turned to speak to Lucifer once more but he had disappeared, the bookshop feeling almost empty and he felt a sick sense of abandonment for a moment. He strained his hearing, sounds no longer coming from above but he had little doubt whatever threat Lucifer had sensed was still nearby. 

The chime above the door sang.

'We're closed,' he called, cursing the catch in his own voice, 'Business hours are noted on the door, if you please.'

'We are not here for books.'

He looked up, the angels stood before him in human clothing wearing faces he recognised but could not name. The swords in their hands though were so far from human that it took him a moment to even register them as he got to his feet.

'To what do I owe this unexpected visit from you both?' he said, 'Just the two of you is it?'

'Where is the traitor Michael?' spoke the darker haired of the two.

'Michael?' said Aziraphale, fingers fidgeting in front of him as he forced a smile, 'Michael who?'

He knew the words had fallen flat as the swords were raised.

'You were seen with her and the demon Crowley. You are conspiring with her.'

'What conspiracy?' he asked, 'I don't know of any conspiracy.'

'Michael is traitor to the rule of Heaven, you are a traitor to the rule of Heaven.'

'I am a traitor to the rule of Heaven.' Lucifer's smooth voice echoed from nowhere before the angel yet to speak gave a yelp, a pale hand around his throat as the other was held in front of his face, hellfire dancing over the fingertips.

'You are in the presence of the Lord of Hell,' hissed Lucifer, 'So you will keep silent lest you wish for a taste of the Fall. Tell your snivelling master that any traitors to him in Heaven are now under my protection and I will burn the soul out of any angel he sends to try me.'

The angel in Lucifer's control nodded, eyes wide as he regarded the fire before him but the other spoke, eyes darting between Lucifer and Aziraphale.

'You are allied with evil,' he spat.

'Oh I think perhaps you would need to look a little closer to home there,' said Aziraphale, 'Now do please exit my shop.'

'Do it quickly,' said Lucifer, shoving the angel he held towards the door, 'Do not try to be a hero to a lost cause, it will not gain you anything. I am not even trying right now.'

The dark haired angel hesitated before joining his companion, clearly neither of them having been prepared to face anything more than Aziraphale or Crowley. Lucifer spared little time in shoving first one and then the other out of the door, blowing on his fingers to extinguish them as he slammed it closed behind them. 

'We need to move,' he said, 'There may be others. Get the things.'

He shoved aside the sofa, pulling open the trap door and helping first Michael and then Crowley out. 

'Short meeting then,' said Crowley, brushing the dust off his jacket, 'Really angel, when did you last clean down there?'

'Before we thought our respective sides were off our backs,' said Aziraphale, 'Didn't think we would be needing it once I didn't have to pretend I didn't know you.'

'Well it did its job even if it is after the event,' said Crowley, 'What now?'

'We get out of here,' said Lucifer.

Michael nodded, 'That was no retrieval mission or an assassination attempt,' she said, 'They were scouts, seeing what they were up against.'

'Pack what you will need for the journey, the prophecies, clothes, whatever else you feel necessary,' said Lucifer, 'We need to avoid using any miracles, demonic or celestial. Whilst we can't hide our presence fully it will at least dim us. Gabriel will send others and a larger force now he knows I'm involved but it will hopefully give us some breathing time. He will not wish to strike me without a strong plan.'

'But if we need to travel as far as the prophecy seems to say how do we get there without miracles?' said Crowley, before he groaned, 'You can't mean...'

'The human way, yes,' said Lucifer, 'And you can't take that car of yours, it's too recognisable.'

'Plus there's potentially two more of us if Beelzebub returns and we find God,' said Aziraphale, 'You can barely fit three in, four alone would be snug.'

'Well what do you expect us to travel in?' said Crowley, 'Buy a rail card, hot wire a school minibus... no, Lucifer, don't look at me like that.'

'We'd be mobile.'

'I am not saving the world in a bus.'

'We need to get there Crowley,' said Aziraphale, 'And quickly.'

The demon groaned but relented, 'Fine, fine. Get everything sorted here. Pack whatever we need, Michael can grab whatever she needs of mine, it should fit her. I'll go find us some transport.'

'I'll come with you,' said Lucifer, 'In case Gabriel sends anyone after you.'

Crowley shook his head, 'I can manage myself,' he said, 'They were after Michael. Stay here and get ready to leave. I'll work quicker on my own.'

Lucifer nodded, 'You know how to call for my aide if you need it,' he said, 'An hour, brother, no more. We need to leave as soon as we can.'

'I'll be back in half the time,' said Crowley, reaching out to catch Aziraphale's hand in his, 'I'll be back.'

'We'll be ready,' said the angel, reluctantly loosing his fingers as Crowley headed for the door. 

It did not take them long to get ready, packing light despite not knowing how long the journey would be. When all was done, Aziraphale sent Michael and Lucifer back downstairs to watch out for Crowley, claiming the need to double check he had brought everything they needed. He knew they had both seen through the excuse but they left him all the same, standing at the foot of the bed with its still messy sheets surrounded by the minutiae of the life he and Crowley built. 

He ran a hand over the footboard, moving around the bed until he sat down on the side he usually rested on. The little miniature frame was hidden behind a pile of half read books, pushed back against the lamp, almost closed, and he picked it up with gentle fingers, opening it out until the twin frames were revealed. He had been surprised one night, a week after they had declared their feelings for one another, when Crowley had approached him and asked for a single feather from his wing. Still giddy with the first flush of romance he had acquiesced without question, unfurling his wings in the spacious living room of Crowley's flat. He had been surprised when the demon had selected one of the smaller pearly white feathers, plucking it with care rather than one of the finer, larger feathers Aziraphale had offered. The demon gave no reason for his request, merely retreating to his bedroom with the feather pressed to his lips and a promise to return. 

He had returned with the frame not long after, not wrapped but a gift all the same, pressed into the angel's hands with a failed attempt at nonchalance. Aziraphale had opened it, expecting photographs or drawings but instead, behind the thin layer of glass in each oval shaped aperture sat one black feather and one white. Opposing colours set beautifully side by side. He had not gone home that night and from they had only spent a handful of nights apart, Aziraphale remaining close even when he chose not to sleep.

He closed it as reverently as he had opened it then, refusing the imagine the silver wings Crowley had spoken of in place of the black ones he loved so dearly. He knew they had dangers yet to face and that the beloved gift would be safer in their home but he could not leave without it. He retrieved a clean handkerchief from the top drawer of his night stand, wrapping it around the frame before tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket. 

He got to his feet, taking one final look at the room before he headed to the door and closed it firmly behind him. He took the stairs slowly, stepping into the quiet of the bookshop. Lucifer and Michael sat at the table, the two small bags that had been packed at their feet and the prophecies set on the table beneath Lucifer's hand. Their silence was almost painful, such a distance between them even when they were meant to be on the same side. He wondered how they would succeed when they could barely stay on the same page, even Crowley and Lucifer more likely to fight than agree despite their shared past. 

'Any sign of Crowley yet?' he asked, hoping for the demon to slide around a bookcase with a quick boast and a lopsided grin.

Lucifer shook his head, 'We have time. He will be here.'

Aziraphale nodded, clasping his hands behind his back as he paced the rug. He hated the silence, thick as it was between them all. The screeching of tires was for once a welcome sound and he hurried to the window, breathing a sigh of relief as Crowley leapt down from the driver's side of a battered campervan. 

'Well it's not a minibus,' he said, as he opened the door, 'Wherever did you find that dreadful looking thing?'

'Know a couple of blokes,' said Crowley, 'Better than nothing even if it does smell like the back end of the nineties.'

'Charming,' said Aziraphale, 'It looks like a summer breeze will shake it to bits.'

'It'll hold together if it knows what's good for it,' said Crowley, 'Everyone in. Don't forget the prophecies.'

He pulled open the side door, the interior of the van more akin to the seventies than the nineties but roomy enough to fit them plus any additional allies they might collect along the way. Michael wrinkled her nose but climbed in, situating herself on the coarse patterned sofa set on one side of the van, hands folded in her lap in an attempt not to touch anything. Lucifer bypassed the open door, heading towards the front but Crowley's hand on his arm stopped him. 

'Where are you off to?' 

'The front,' said Lucifer, frowning as Crowley arched an eyebrow, 'You can't expect me to rattle about back there.'

'I'm not married to you,' said Crowley, 'Aziraphale is sitting with me. You can keep Michael company.'

Lucifer looked like he wanted to argue, red eyes flashing as he scowled before he stepped through the side door, sitting on the bench beside Michael though there was as much distance between them as could be managed in the small space. Aziraphale placed the bags in with them, stashing them beneath the flimsy excuse for a table, before he handed them the Anathema's notebook and his translations. 

'Perhaps you can look these over whilst we travel,' he said, 'You might work out something I've missed.'

Michael reached out and took hold of them with a nod, 'What if...' she began before she shook her head, 'Please don't go too fast.'

'I'll make sure he doesn't,' said Aziraphale, ignoring Crowley's snort behind him as he stepped back and closed the door. 

The demon in question opened the passenger door, offering Aziraphale a hand to help him up the step, fingers closing over his as the angel looked back at the shop.

'Home soon,' he said, 'Quicker we're there, quicker we're back.'

'I hope you're right,' said Aziraphale, steeling himself and climbing into the passenger seat as Crowley made a show of checking the front door of the shop was locked before heading round to the driver's side and climbing in beside him, 'Thank you, dear.'

'I know you too well, angel,' he said, 'It'll be waiting for us when we get back.'

Aziraphale nodded, 'Let's get moving. Like you say, sooner we're there,' he said before he dropped his voice to a whisper, 'Besides, Lucifer and Michael haven't exactly been very talkative so far.'

Crowley pulled away from the pavement, the engine protesting a little before deciding to cooperate, 'Hopefully time in back will break the ice,' he said back just as quietly, 'They're going to need to find a way to work together. They used to snap at each other when we were in Heaven too. He was as much at odds with her as I was with Gabriel at times. They almost made a sport out of it. '

'It's still odd,' said Aziraphale, 'Hearing you talk about Heaven. It's like you were there and I wasn't. It sounds alive when you talk about it.'

'It was before the Fall,' said Crowley, 'It was different then, warmer. I don't think I would have recognised it even if I had my memories when I went up there as you. The Heaven I remember was never so cold. I promise to return your memories of it when I can.'

Aziraphale smiled, 'Until then you can just tell me more stories of us,' he said, 'It will pass the time as we drive.'

Crowley reached over, taking hold of his hand for a moment before returning it to the steering wheel, 'Well there was the second time we visited Eden together and you ran afoul of the stream,' he said before he laughed, 'I've never heard a sound like the one you made when you fell in.'

Aziraphale huffed, 'You're making that up.'

Crowley shook his head, 'Honest truth,' he said, 'You got your revenge though.'

'Oh really, how?' said the angel, brightening slightly, turning in his seat to face him as Crowley began the tale.

xxxx

The ornate pathways outside of Leicester Cathedral were thankfully quiet, leaving them looking slightly less conspicuous as they hovered around the main door, both Crowley and Lucifer skittering back from the building whenever they got too close. 

'Remind me again why we aren't just making enquiries?' said Michael.

'Because we have no idea what She looks like,' said Lucifer, 'For all we know we go in describing the image we remember and when She hit the ground She looked completely different. I was hoping one of you would be able to sense something.'

'If all of you stop talking I might be able to get somewhere,' snapped Aziraphale, 'It really does not help that everything I'm trying to feel is being influenced by demons who can't keep three feet away from consecrated ground and an Archangel who is still angelic enough to leave celestial energy behind her so please, if we want to find Her please can you all stop moving and be quiet.'

'You're beloved has a bold streak,' said Lucifer.

'And only a finite amount of patience,' said Aziraphale, 'Now hush.'

Crowley bit back a laugh, unable to meet anyone's eye in case it broke him and he got his share of his husband's ire. It took several more minutes before Aziraphale finally huffed in annoyance and stomped over to the nearest bench to sit down.

'Didn't work then,' said Crowley, joining him.

Aziraphale shook his head, 'There's definitely something divine but there's too much church and people and echoes and I can't get a fix on anything. I'm sorry I can't be of any use.'

'This is not all on you, angel,' said Crowley, rubbing a hand against his back, 'We can try again.'

Aziraphale dropped his face into his hands, fingers worrying the platinum curls of his hair as he tried to sense anything aside from the demonic and heavenly influences he knew but there was too many sensations for him to get a fix on anything.

'I don't think I could manage even if I had no outside influences,' he said raising his head once more and sighing sadly, 'I can't do it, Crowley. I can't find Her.'

'Then we find another way and quickly,' said Lucifer, 'Perhaps Michael...where's she gone?'

'I thought she was standing with you,' said Crowley, 'I didn't hear her call out.'

Aziraphale paled, 'You don't think... they were after her earlier.'

'What did you say to her?' said Crowley, to his former master, 'You were sniping at each other for half the journey.'

'She was being petulant,' said Lucifer, 'But I've not said anything for her to get upset about since we got here.'

'We have to find her,' said Aziraphale, 'If they've got hold of her I dread to think what they'll do. They're so quick. When they grabbed you in the park that time Crowley...'

'Let's not think the worst,' said the demon, 'We need to find her and quickly. Angel, you go inside, makes sense they'd drag her in there where we can't follow. We'll look around here. Five minutes then back here, we can't risk splitting up for too long.'

Aziraphale turned to the door to the cathedral just as Michael stepped back outside, a determined look on her face as she marched over to them.

'Idiot,' she said, pointing at the angel before she turned to Crowley, poking him square in the chest, 'Another idiot.' She crossed the short distance between the demon and Lucifer, standing uncomfortably close to him despite it forcing her to look up. 'Complete and utter bloody buffoon. God is in Leicester Royal Infirmary. She's blonde and appears in Her mid forties, pretty and was wearing white when She was found. They are trying to find Her family and here is an artist's rendition. She had some facial injuries so the police haven't released pictures.'

She pulled a poster from her pocket stuffing it into Lucifer's hands.

'How...?' he started, unfolding the picture.

'I asked the woman at the information desk inside. Was sort of a big event finding an unidentified woman injured on their doorstep,' said Michael, 'They're very worried and are hoping to find someone who knows Her. Now can we stop messing about trying to find divine signatures and instead head to the hospital and ask for our sister or mother or whatever we want to call Her. Idiots, the lot of you.'

She didn't wait for any of them to respond, heading back towards the main road with her arms folded across her chest. Crowley took the picture from Lucifer's hands, looking down at it and nodding.

'That's Her alright,' he said, 'I think I'm siding with team Michael on this one. Come on, angel.'

Aziraphale shot Lucifer an apologetic smile before following Crowley and Michael. It didn't take them long to catch her up, Lucifer having to pick up his pace slightly more until they were all walking together again. Michael requested directions to the hospital from one of the people they passed on the street before leading them all in the direction she was pointed.

The twenty minute walk was all but silent, all of them walking a few steps behind Michael who had elected herself, without any opposition, to the leader of their rag-tag band on account of being by far the smartest out of all of them at that moment. It was only when the hospital came into sight that Aziraphale hurried to her side before falling into step with her.

'What should we say when we get in there?' he asked, 'We don't know what sort of state She'll be in.'

'I'll call Her my sister,' said Michael, 'Though it feels like blasphemy. We appear too similar in age for Her to be mother though it feels like if I were to call Her anything other than Lord, mother would be appropriate. She created me after all. I'm going to say we lost contact and I came to find Her and stumbled on the information poster. I haven't thought about how I'm going to explain you lot away. I don't know if I want him in there either. He might frighten Her. Crowley is different but Lucifer... he's still the Enemy even if he is acting like he's helping us.' 

'He is helping us,' said Aziraphale, 'It's just difficult sometimes and it must be hard. We're angels, we have always existed in Her love. For Lucifer and Crowley, after what both of them went through, this is difficult. They might hate Gabriel but they have no great love for God either. We must all try for patience.'

'You weren't saying that earlier.'

Aziraphale frowned, 'Acknowledged but that doesn't mean I was right,' he said, 'So She's your sister, what are we?'

Michael regarded him for a moment before she nodded, 'A friend, you came with me for support along with your husband,' she said, 'Lucifer can wait outside.'

'What can Lucifer do?' said the Lord of Hell as he caught up with them, 'Can I please be consulted before any decisions are made?'

Michael sniffed, 'I'm not opening this up to a discussion,' she said, 'You will be waiting outside whilst we go in to see if She is there.'

'I should think...'

'This isn't a debate,' said Michael, 'Technically I am the highest ranking agent of Heaven here which puts me in charge.'

Lucifer growled, 'You are only an Archangel. I am a Seraph.'

'A fallen one,' said Michael, glaring up at him. 

It was only Crowley stepping between them that saved her from the hellfire that played over Lucifer's fingers, mimicking her pose from the shop when she stood guard for him.

'Enough, the pair of you,' he said, 'Calm down. Insults aren't going to get us anywhere. No one is in charge here, we are working together and we will discuss things sensibly without resorting to cheap shots about our statuses. That being said I think Michael is right in the regard that you need to stay outside Lucifer. Firstly, we arrive on mass the humans are going to get suspicious. I'd even suggest staying outside myself but if we encounter any heavenly interference in there it won't hurt to have a bit of Hell onside. Secondly, God has no idea we are coming and being faced with you might frighten Her, especially if She's not fully in charge of Herself. Last, we need someone outside in case things go wrong. If we're all caught together then there's no hope left, one of us outside might stand a chance and you have an army at your command.'

'So I am to act like the guard dog?' huffed Lucifer.

Crowley snorted, 'You can act your damn age,' he said, before he sighed, 'Please. Can we just try?'

'Crowley's right,' said Aziraphale, 'We need to get on with each other. Remember what's at stake.'

Lucifer frowned but nodded, crossing his arms across his chest, 'Fine but next time I would prefer to be part of the conversation,' he said, 'I do not do well being imposed upon by Heaven.'

'A feeling I know only too well,' said Aziraphale, earning a snort of laughter from his husband, 'We should get inside. These places tend to have rules about visiting hours and if we can't use miracles we'll need to abide by them. We need a name for Her. Don't want to fall at the first hurdle when they start asking questions.'

'Mary,' said Crowley, 'Then pick something generic. Smith, Jones, you know the kind. Let's not get complicated. Best call yourself Michaela rather than Michael as well, or Michelle but pick one and stick to it. The humans aren't used to women with that name.'

'I'm not a woman,' said Michael.

'Yes but to them you look like one,' said Aziraphale, 'And now is not the time to debate the point.'

'Fine, Michaela it is,' said Michael, 'But not one of you is at liberty to call me it outside of this situation. My name is my name. Shall we?'

Lucifer followed them as far as the main door before finding a suitable bench to wait on, Crowley waiting until he was well out of ear shot to mention he was sulking rather than sitting. He and Aziraphale held back just enough to allow Michael to take the lead but stayed close enough to offer her any help if she needed it. The woman she approached at the desk was reluctant at best to offer any sort of direction to the patient they were seeking, trying to direct Michael to the police rather than anywhere in the hospital. 

'We can't spare the time,' whispered Aziraphale as Michael continued to try to cajole the woman into helping her, 'I know Lucifer said no...influences but we don't have anything if we need to prove a connection.'

Crowley nodded, 'Heaven are less likely to notice me,' he said, stepping up to Michael's side and addressing the woman she was talking too, 'We aren't looking to offer any decisions on Mary's care. All my friend here wants to do is see her sister. They do say that hearing the voice of a loved one can help the healing process, she'll be in and out in two minutes and no harm done.'

The woman smiled and Aziraphale had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he saw the all too familiar response to his husband turning on the charm.

'Well it's against procedure...' she said again.

'Oh but you know procedure is only there as a guideline,' said Crowley, leaning down on the counter, 'Call it a mission of mercy. What was your name again?'

'Nancy,' she replied.

Crowley grinned, 'Name of my first girlfriend,' he said, 'We were five, broke my heart when she went off with a boy in the class above. You're not going to break my heart are you Nancy?'

Michael stepped back to Aziraphale's side, frowning as she caught the angel's amused expression, 'You don't mind this?' she asked as Crowley continued to talk.

Aziraphale chuckled, covering it with a hand, 'I've seen this act one too many times,' he said, 'It gets more and more ridiculous but it means he doesn't have to use as much influence when he gets to the end of it.' 

'I thought we weren't using miracles.'

'Needs must,' said Aziraphale, 'Time's against us. Ah, here we go?'

Michael looked up as Crowley took hold of the receptionist's hand, running the fingers of his free hand over her knuckles.

'You see, Nancy, I just want to make my friend happy,' said Crowley, 'You won't even know we've been here. All you need is to tell me the room she's in and we won't be a bother. You won't need to see us again... unless you want to.'

The last words were punctuated by the whisper of a kiss against her knuckles but it was the demonic influence that truly swayed things in their favour, the sense of it easily felt by Michael and Aziraphale but missed by the young woman it was directed at.

'Windsor building, level six,' she said, 'Take a right down the corridor.'

'You are a life saver,' said Crowley, letting go of her hand and turning back to his companions with a wink, 'Let's go see Mary.'

Aziraphale choked back a laugh as he heard the young woman call out her finish time, Crowley only just acknowledging it with a wave of his hand as they headed down the corridor, soon rounding the corner she had indicated. 

'Enjoy yourself, dear?' asked the angel, finally letting the laugh slip, 'You are the most dreadful flirt.'

'Got us the ward didn't I?' he said, 'And I am yet to hear a thank you.'

'You'll get a thank you when I have sight of the Almighty,' said Michael, 'And I have never seen such a display as that before.'

Crowley laughed, 'Neither had she, poor girl,' he said, 'Really not my type.'

'I should bloody hope not,' said Aziraphale.

'You know I prefer blonds, darling.'

'You two are so strange,' said Michael, with a smile that threatened fondness, 'So very, very strange.'

'A very proud of it,' said Aziraphale, 'Windsor building was it? Up here then.'

They chose the lift over the stairs, grateful to find themselves travelling alone. The ward they stepped onto was sleek and clean, the beds neatly separated by crisp white curtains. The few nurses that populated the area were busy at their tasks, only one questioning them and happily accepting that they had been sent up by reception, claiming that their unnamed woman was in fact one Mary Jones. 

They were led to the bed, Crowley grateful that he was walking between the two angels as they both stumbled slightly as they drew close to the closed curtain. He held onto them both as discreetly as he could, his own senses tingling the nearer they got. 

'Could we have a moment?' he said, with a forced smile, 'Might get a bit emotional.'

The nurse nodded, holding aside the curtain enough for them to step in before letting it fall back, enclosing them all. The woman on the bed matched the picture Michael had retrieved from the cathedral, as well as the image Crowley remembered from Heaven but it was muted, all too human and easy to look upon when he should have been forced to avert his eyes. The bruising was heavy over her right eye, a bandage covering half her hair where it lay limp against the pillows. 

'It feels...' began Aziraphale, 'Oh this hurts.'

'She should not be like this,' said Michael, her hands shaking as she reached out but fell short of touching her, 'She looks so small but it's Her.'

'Alright you two,' said Crowley, 'Breathe and stay calm. We don't have long. We need to work out what's wrong and how we get her out of here without rousing suspicion. I can't risk doing anything, She looks weak and demonic powers might be too much. Aziraphale can you sense what's wrong?'

'I can try,' said the angel, approaching the bed and reaching out a hand, 'I can't...I can't touch Her. Not without...She's the Almighty and I'm just...'

'Never just anything,' said Crowley, 'Right now, you're the best chance She has. She needs you. This isn't Heaven and you're not doing anything wrong.'

Aziraphale pulled over a chair, sitting down next to the bed before he took hold of the pale hand on the bed sheets in his own. He shuddered at the contact but stilled himself, closing his eyes. Crowley said nothing as Michael's hand took hold of his wrist, the grip punishing but he endured it, using it as an anchor as he watched his husband's face war between concentration and distress. 

'The injuries are minor, mostly,' he said, 'I think I could heal them but She feels drained, empty.'

'From the way Michael told it, belief sustained Her,' said Crowley, 'Perhaps between you, you could do enough to at least wake Her.'

'We can try,' said Michael, brushing aside the tears on her cheeks as she left Crowley to stand by Aziraphale, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder, 'We need to let Her feel our love. I know she hurt Crowley and you in a way but can you? Please help me if you can.'

Aziraphale nodded, 'I might not be pleased,' he said, 'But I can't help but love Her. I just hope it's enough.'

'It will be,' said Michael, stepping behind him to better place both her hands on him, 'Let it flow. She's ours, Aziraphale, just as we are Hers. Remember the love you were created in.'

Crowley looked on as the angels began their work, familiar sensations pressing at his senses but they were too dulled, distant memories of love and Heaven and the Grace he had once been held in. It was a mournful sensation, tied up in not only the Fall but the betrayal he remembered when he had returned to Her sight for the final time. Even so, despite it all, he hoped along with them, knowing it would do little to help but needing to do something. 

His heart sank as Michael opened her eyes, stepping back from Aziraphale with a sad shake of Her head.

'Nothing,' said the Archangel, 'There's so little left. Aziraphale, don't...'

The angel flinched, eyes creasing in pain before his whole body lurched, wings springing forth and taking out the nearby machines and curtains with a deafening crash. Crowley swore, as he heard the commotion beyond but his worry for them died quickly as he watched the colour draining from the angel's face. 

'Aziraphale!' he cried, 'Aziraphale let go.'

The angel didn't answer, his hand glowing where it held onto Her's but the power moved swiftly from him and into Her skin. The paleness of Her skin faded, cheeks growing rosy as the bruising faded from above Her eye. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks before She took a gasping breath. Still the power continued to flow, the pure white feathers on Aziraphale's wings becoming almost translucent as his colour continued to drain.

'She's killing him,' said Crowley, 'Michael, help him please. She's going to take everything he has. Aziraphale, let go.'

Michael hesitated a moment before she took hold of their joined hands, only to stumble back as though she had been burned, 'I can't,' she said, 'It threw me off.'

Panic rushed through Crowley as Aziraphale let out a desperate cry, his body convulsing as his wings grew thinner still. He gave no thought to the humans he was certain were now gathering around them, unleashing his own wings and calling on the powers he still drew from Hell despite the breaking of his chains. 

With a cry he took hold of their joined hands, feeling the electricity that tried to throw him off but ignoring the burn in favour of keeping hold. He cursed against the pain, beating it back as he fought to release their hands. Aziraphale cried out beside him and he felt the pain as though it were his own, the panic flowing into him as he finally broke his husband free. 

The scream that echoed from the bed was deafening, feral and dangerous, like an animal wounded and afraid. It was the pulse of power though that proved the worse, stronger than a lightning strike as it rose from the woman in the bed and spread with the force of a tsunami around the rest of the room. 

Crowley dived for the floor, dragging Aziraphale with him before pulling Michael down too, enveloping them all within his wings as the light grew too bright. In the moment before he closed his eyes though he watched as the black feathers he had known for six thousand years seemed to bleach to silver-grey.


	11. Safe Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their allies from Heaven injured, those from Hell have to find somewhere for them to recover and regroup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter today but I hope you still enjoy it x

Alarms screamed around them, both from the machines and the emergency alert that Crowley was sure one of the nurses had set off in reaction to the strange goings on they were all part of. He dared not emerge from the protection of his wings, holding Aziraphale's limp form against his chest as he tried to keep Michael close beneath his free arm. She cried out in pain and fright against his shoulder, whatever the power was hurting her more than it did him. He only dared look out between his feathers as he heard fresh screams, human screams, whatever was harming Michael now harming them too. 

'Keep him covered,' he said to Michael as he laid Aziraphale face down on the floor, 'And keep your eyes shut. I'll cover you as best I can but I need to stop Her.'

'Don't hurt Her,' wept Michael, 'Please, Crowley, try not to hurt Her.'

He didn't answer, knowing he could make no promises to her, as he guided her to lie over Aziraphale. He kept his wings over them both until she was face down over the angel, not wanting to even question why the light seemed to be painting them far paler than they should be.

'Just don't look up until I tell you,' he said.

He kept his own eyes closed against the light as he got to his feet, the screams spurring him onwards as he struggled to the bed. Even his sunglasses offered no protection against the light but he risked opening his eyes enough to aim himself before he leaned down over the figure on the bed, grabbing Her roughly.

'Stop this,' he cried, 'You're killing them all. You have to stop. Stop it.'

The voice was with him again, the echo of the fury he had possessed as an angel, ringing out over the sound of the screaming. It shuddered through him, flaring his wings which felt too heavy against his back. He shook Her, not caring for the yelp of pain that came from Her lips as the light began to dim. 

'Stop this!' he cried again, grateful as the room stopped shaking and the light receded, the harshness of the overhead strip lighting almost a welcome relief. 

Fathomless eyes opened beneath him, eyes he remembered all too well since Lucifer returned his memories. For a moment they regarded him in confusion before they widened, the hand that had kept hold of Aziraphale coming up to touch him but Crowley jumped back before She could make contact. Annoyance flitted across Her face before whatever ailed Her overcame Her and Her eyes fell shut once more. 

He heard a door slam open before the air around him changed, the familiar sensation of a demonic miracle washing over him. He put away his wings, ignoring the pain as they felt too large to control before turning as the curtain was thrown back.

'What happened?' cried Lucifer, 'This place just lit up like a Christmas tree. Are you trying to tell Gabriel where we are?'

'Don't blame me!' cried Crowley, 'She went mad. She was killing him and then She...I've no idea but it was hurting the humans and the angels. I barely coped with it myself.'

Lucifer looked down at the figure on the bed, 'That's Her,' he said, half in question, 'We need to get everyone out of here. There's no way Heaven didn't see that. Beelzebub!'

Crowley spared a brief look to as the demon appeared, not pausing to question when she had arrived as he moved around the bed. Michael was slowly pulling herself into the chair, her movements sluggish but she still managed under her own steam. Aziraphale however remained unmoving and Crowley cared nothing for the pain of the impact as he fell to his knees beside him. 

'Angel?' he called, 'Aziraphale, can you hear me? Aziraphale! Please. You've got to wake up.'

He kept his hands as gentle as he could in his panic, rolling him over until he was laid on his back. The sight of his eyes closed alone was enough to worry him but it was the absence of the familiar rise and fall of his chest that struck him. Whilst they did not have to breathe it was a habit they had fallen into, the physicality of it something as much a part of them as their heartbeats had become. Crowley refused to think the worst, lifting Aziraphale up until he was cradled in his arms, moving him gently as he spoke to him, calling him back from wherever he had gone. Reaching out with senses that were ill used but still sharp, he felt the dormant presence within the beloved body.

'You're in there still, I know you are,' he said, ignoring the tears that fell onto the shoulder of the angel's coat, 'I'm here, my love and you're safe. I've got you, you're safe with me. Aziraphale you have to come back to me, please. My angel, please.'

He cried out in relief as he felt Aziraphale shudder, a breath sucked in before a whimper left his lips.

'It's alright,' said Crowley, 'I've got you. You're alright.'

Aziraphale shivered, sounds passing his lips but none of them succeeding in becoming words. His hands clutched at Crowley's back, knotting into the fabric of his jacket as he pressed close to the demon. Crowley heard the others moving around him but he didn't look up, focusing instead of keeping Aziraphale close. He stroked a hand down his back but pulled it away as the angel cried out.

'Hurts,' said Aziraphale, his voice hoarse.

'What hurts?' said Crowley, keeping his hands light.

'Everything,' said Aziraphale with a shudder, removing a hand from Crowley's back enough to hold it palm up between them, 'It burns'

Crowley hissed at the sight of the blistered skin, the flesh raw and swollen on the once pale hand. He cupped it gently in his hand, pouring as much healing as he was capable of offering into it. The skin slowly recovered its more natural colour, only a faint redness remaining but Crowley could still sense the lingering pain.

'Anywhere else?'

Aziraphale nodded, 'Patches all over,' he said, 'Feels like I rolled in the fireplace. Don't try to do anything, you'll exhaust yourself. What happened to me?'

'She did,' Crowley growled, 'She was draining you. I forced Her off and not a moment too soon it seems. If I knew She'd hurt you...'

Aziraphale pressed his fingers to the demon's lips, 'Don't,' he said, 'Please. I can't...Just hold me for a moment.'

Crowley held him close, keeping his hands as gentle as he could, trying to sense all the injuries and feeling tears spring to his eyes as he felt them scattered over the angel. He pushed the anger aside, focusing instead on comforting his husband as he continued to shake, pouring as much love as he could into the gentle touches.

'Raphael,' said Lucifer, cutting through his concentration, 'We need to move. Get him up. We have to get out of here.'

Crowley looked up, biting back as curse as he saw the body containing whatever was left of God in his arms. He wanted to tell him to leave Her but he knew he would face too much opposition, Michael's eyes focused on Her even as Beelzebub was forced to support her to keep her standing. 

'Angel, can you stand?' said Crowley.

Aziraphale nodded, his hands gripping on to Crowley as they struggled to get to their feet. Crowley pulled his arm over his shoulder, gentling the angel as best he could as it aggravated his injuries.

'Just lean on me,' said Crowley, 'If you need to stop just say. I'll carry you if I have to.'

'You'll never walk again if you tried,' quipped the angel before he flinched, 'Better off dragging me.'

'I'm stronger than I look,' said Crowley, wrapping an arm around his waist, 'You'll have to take the lead, Lucifer. What's the plan?'

'Put as much distance between us and here as we can, then we'll start to work things out.'

'And Her?' said Crowley as they headed to the door, the room around them still frozen by Lucifer's power but the damage was still clear, 'She really tore the place up. The humans?'

'Will remember an incident but no specifics,' said Lucifer, 'And no faces though Gabriel will not have to make much of a guess if he senses my power here.'

'Is She alive?' asked Michael, stumbling in Beelzebub's grip, her height making it harder for the demon to keep her upright, 'God, is She alive?'

'She's alive,' said Lucifer, 'And I intend to keep Her that way. We need to get to the van and then get out of here.'

He led them to the nearest fire exit, kicking it open and heading down the stairs at a pace far too quick for them to keep up to but they tried all the same. Beelzebub and Michael were the next to leave, Crowley struggling to keep Aziraphale upright as the angel stumbled towards the door.

'Take it slow,' he said, 'They won't drive off without us. Lean on me a little more.'

Aziraphale shifted his weight closer to the demon, 'I feel so weak,' he said, 'Cold. What did... what did She do to me?'

'I don't know what exactly. She had hold of you and it looked as though She was taking whatever there was in you and using it to heal Herself but She was taking too much. You were fading and I couldn't... I'm not losing you to Her again, Aziraphale, not for the whole world.'

'Crowley...'

'No, love, no arguments on that,' said the demon, as they reached the stairs, 'Easy now, we'll do this slowly. Let me move in front of you a bit, easier to catch you if you fall.'

Blue eyes met his, tears quickly blinked back but he saw them all the same, tears prompted by so simple a word. A word that had should have been Aziraphale's fate were it not for the demon leading him so carefully down the stairs. Crowley shook his head, wordlessly forbidding the thought for the both of them as they slowly negotiated the steps. Feet rushing up to them prompted Crowley to turn a little, frowning as he saw Beelzebub returning.

'Where's Michael?' he asked.

'At the bottom,' said Beelzebub, 'She's moving a little easier. I was sent back to help you with that one.'

Crowley scowled at the dismissive hand that was waved towards Aziraphale but chose not to argue the point, 'Just keep him steady,' he said as Beelzebub passed him and wrapped Aziraphale's free arm over her shoulder.

'Thank you,' said the angel, flinching at the buzz of annoyance from the demon, 'Oh, sorry, I forget that...well...you lot don't like that sort of thing. Crowley's more used to it I suppose. I don't think I'm going to manage many more of these.'

'You're alright,' said Crowley, 'Just keep going. Not much further to go.'

Aziraphale managed a weak laugh, 'We've barely managed a floor.'

'Well we're closer than we were,' said Crowley, gripping him a little tighter as the angel stumbled before lowering him to sit on the step as his legs refused to take another step.

'Get up and keep moving,' snapped Beelzebub, trying to drag the angel back to his feet before Crowley knocked her hands away.

'Just give him a moment.'

'I'm afraid I may need rather than a moment, dear,' said Aziraphale, his head falling into his hands, 'The room won't stop moving and I... you'll have to go on without me.'

'Now you're chatting shit,' said Crowley, 'You're the last one I'm leaving behind. We can rest a moment.'

'Lucifer said I was to hurry you along,' said Beelzebub, 'We can't risk being here when Heaven chooses to arrive. Get up or I'll drag you up.'

'Touch him and you'll be dealing with me,' said Crowley.

Aziraphale waved a hand between them both, 'Please don't. My head hurts enough. Beelzebub is right Crowley, you can't risk being here when Heaven arrives, not with God in the state She's in. You'll all be vulnerable. I know you don't want to leave me but right now I'm a hindrance you don't need. You and Beelzebub go. Go and get the van and get everyone in it. I'll get myself down and to the door. Come back here if you can and get me, if not I can maybe buy you some time by distracting Heaven. This is bigger than me, love. You have to go.'

'Yeah, not happening,' said Crowley, 'I said I'd carry you and I bloody well will. Just don't wriggle. Now you're going to stand, slowly as you need to, and Beelzebub will keep you upright and then I'll do the rest.'

'Whatever we're doing can we do it quickly,' said Beelzebub, taking hold of Aziraphale's arm and helping him back to his feet, 'Much as I wouldn't mind a scrap with a couple of white wings, I'd rather be better prepared.'

'I still don't think this is a good idea,' said Aziraphale, squeezing his eyes tight, 'Nothing is keeping still.'

'Just keep your eyes shut,' said Crowley, 'And trust me, husband.'

The word brought the briefest smile to Aziraphale's lips but it turned into a yelp of alarm as Crowley, moved a couple of steps down, turned to face him and lifted him over his shoulder with a grunt of effort.

'Crowley, no! You'll discorporate us both.'

'Just keep still and hush,' said the demon through clenched teeth as he turned and began to move down the stairs.

'Never thought I'd see an angel getting carried like a sack of potatoes,' said Beelzebub, keeping pace with them, 'Struggling there, Crowley.'

'Not enough that I can't boot you down the stairs,' he said, 'And don't start showing off, Hell isn't in charge of me any more.'

The floors passed slowly but Crowley refused to stop, moving as quickly as he could with Beelzebub thankfully keeping silent at his side, until they finally reached the bottom. 

'Help me get him down,' said Crowley, lowering them back to the floor, grateful for the hands that guided Aziraphale from his shoulder. 

'You're a bloody idiot,' said the angel as Beelzebub leant him back against the wall, 'You'll be in agony for days.'

'I'm fine,' said Crowley even as he rubbed at his shoulder, 'Where's Lucifer?'

Michael looked up at him with tired eyes, the woman they had pulled from the bed cradled in her lap, still asleep, 'Went to get the van,' she said, 'He said there was no way we were going to get there on foot. I can barely move and Aziraphale doesn't look much better.'

'Hope he can drive?' said Crowley with a frown, 'And hot wire. I've still got the keys.'

'You're not the only one who spends time topside,' said Beelzebub, 'And at least he's thinking ahead.'

'And I'm trying to keep everyone safe,' said Crowley, 'I didn't ask to be dragged into this. Did you get Adam and the others sorted?'

Beelzebub nodded, straightening her cuff as she stared down at the woman in Michael's lap, causing the angel to curl a little tighter around her charge, 'Dagon has arranged watchers and she and Hastur will keep a close eye. They will report to me only if necessary and they won't interfere with the humans. I spoke to the boy and to the human woman too so they know not to be afraid if they see those from our side.'

'Hardly a comfort but at least they're being watched,' said Crowley, kneeling down beside Aziraphale, 'How are you feeling?'

Aziraphale kept his eyes closed, his head resting back against the wall, 'Remember Mount Asama in seventeen eighty-three?' he said, taking hold of the demon's hand, 'This feels worse, far worse. I can barely move.'

'Can I do anything?'

'Just stay close,' said the angel, 'And don't let me be a burden.'

An awkward silence descended on them all, Beelzebub pacing the floor, eyes flashing every time a sound echoed down the abandoned stairwell. Michael continued to watch over her charge, speaking so quietly that her words were lost to the others, as Crowley watched over his. Having settled himself next to his husband, he kept hold of his hand, pressing a kiss to his hair as his head came to rest against his shoulder. 

The sounds of the humans above them continued to grow louder, Lucifer's spell having worn off allowing for the scene to be discovered and Crowley began to wonder whether they would need to try and move on again, not wanting to waste time talking them out of whatever conclusions might be drawn if they were found there. His plans were cut short though as he heard footsteps outside the door, Lucifer reappearing with a frown marring his brow. 

'There are police arriving,' he said, 'We need to move fast. I can't risk doing anything else that will attract Heaven.'

'Fast isn't much of an option,' said Crowley, 'You'll have to drive, I'm not leaving Aziraphale on his own.'

'I'm fine,' came the sleepy response at his shoulder.

'Course you are,' said Crowley, 'Just don't want to be without you for a second, love. We need to get you up. Just a few steps and then you can lie down again. Lucifer, I'll need your help.'

'Get them into the van,' said Lucifer as Beelzebub lifted God's unconscious vessel with far more ease than her size would own, letting Michael lean on her shoulder as they headed out of the door, 'Can you stand at all, young one?'

Aziraphale frowned, 'Stop calling me that... feel like a child,' he mumbled, 'Standing isn't so good but I don't want to be a sack again.'

'We'll help you,' said Crowley, 'And then you're going to rest, properly. You're starting to make less sense than usual.'

The demon got to his feet, working with Lucifer to help the angel to his before they half carried him to the door and to the van that was parked with two wheels on the pavement. Beelzebub quickly helped them inside, Aziraphale soon laid down on the coarse carpet, the sofa already taken by God's vessel and Michael, the latter looking nearly as pale as Aziraphale despite being able to sit up. Crowley paid little mind to any of them as Beelzebub joined Lucifer at the front, taking off his jacket and pillowing it beneath the angel's head as the van lurched away from the pavement.

'Who... how are you driving?' asked Aziraphale, squinting up at him.

Crowley laughed, 'I'm not, Lucifer is,' he said, as the angel reached for his hand, pulling it down to rest against his chest, 'Well, he's trying. I'm looking after you.'

'That's nice. I feel awful.'

Crowley lay down beside him, trying to ignore the state of the floor as he focused, 'Well I wouldn't worry, you still look gorgeous,' he said, pressing a kiss to his temple, 'Rest, my love. You need your strength.'

'I think... need sleep,' murmured Aziraphale, 'Don't like sleep...feels funny. Be here...when I wake up?'

'Right here, I promise you.'

Aziraphale frowned, even as his eyes fell shut, 'You weren't last time... were gone and I...didn't...couldn't remember,' he said, several long beats passing before he spoke again, 'Love you.'

'Love you too, you daft bugger. Now go to sleep,' said Crowley, allowing himself a small smile as he realised the angel had already slipped into slumber.

It was a rare thing for him to be able to watch him sleep and he indulged the opportunity for longer than necessary to make sure it was a safe and healing rest rather than anything more sinister brought on by his encounter with God. He wasn't sure how long they had been travelling when he looked up from his vigil but the countryside he could glimpse out of the window let him know that the city and its suburbs were long behind them. 

He gently removed his hand from Aziraphale's grip, smoothing down the blond curls before he got to his feet, holding onto the table for a moment to steady himself against the van's movement. He looked over to the sofa, Michael asleep even as she still cradled her charge in her lap. He tore his eyes away from the other face, refusing to think on the memories it brought or the anger that still boiled in his gut at both the torment he had endured and the pain he had seen Aziraphale suffer through. Careful not to wake any of them, he headed towards the front, leaning over the back of the seats Lucifer and Beelzebub occupied. 

'Didn't realise you could drive,' he said, 'Where exactly are we?'

'I've spent my time up top,' said Lucifer, sparing him a glance, 'I'm taking us into the Peaks, away from the humans. If She goes off again I don't want anyone getting hurt. How are they?'

'Sleeping,' said Crowley, 'Aziraphale took a proper whack and Michael has been running on empty since we found her. They're going to need time to recover.'

'A luxury we can ill afford,' said Lucifer, 'But they are no use to us weak. We'll have to find somewhere for them to rest.'

'Heaven will find us regardless of where we go,' said Beelzebub, 'They'll know that was demonic magic at the hospital.'

'Then we follow the rule we promised ourselves,' said Lucifer, 'No more miracles unless it's absolutely necessary.'

'Try telling Her that,' said Crowley, 'Though She won't be getting a chance to do what She did back at the hospital again. She's not touching Aziraphale even if Her life depends on it.'

'We are all going to have to make sacrifices by the end of this, Raphael.'

'Not my husband and I'm not going to argue about that,' said Crowley, 'We need somewhere we can get off the road and work out what we're going to do next.'

'We can't exactly commandeer a house,' said Lucifer.

'Well we could,' said Beelzebub, 'Humans are easily persuaded.'

'Perhaps a little less heavy handed,' said Crowley, 'If we're heading into the Peaks we can hire somewhere, Aziraphale and I have done it a couple of times. Do it the human way and we cover our tracks.'

Lucifer shook his head, 'Heaven will have everything on the look out for us,' he said, 'I've not got access to human funds without magic and neither has Beelzebub. You can bet they'll have someone on the look out for anything with the name Crowley or Fell attached to it.'

'But not Device,' said Crowley, 'I need to make a phone call. Keep us pointed towards the Peaks. I'll do the rest.'

xxxx

The cottage was in darkness when they pulled up outside, Lucifer parking the van behind the small outbuilding that would hide it from sight from road. Crowley climbed out the moment they were stationary, heading to the front door with his phone pressed to his ear.

'Black box by the door?' he said, peering around the frame until he found it and flicked it open, 'Needs a code?'

He span the silver dials, selecting the digits Anathema read back to him until the lock clicked and he opened the tiny safe, retrieving the key inside. 

'I owe you one, book girl,' he said fondly, 'Make sure Hastur doesn't give you any grief and call me if he does. I'll be in touch when I can.'

He hung up the phone as he heard her goodbye, fitting the key into the lock and opening the door. The hallway was dark but he quickly found the light switch, illuminating the rough stone floors and the doorways that led into the other rooms.

'Well isn't this quaint,' sneered Beelzebub as she came to his side.

'Better than us all crammed into that thing,' said Crowley, 'Thought you were helping Lucifer.'

'Your pet angel is asking for you,' she replied, 'Won't move until he sees you and Michael is being an over glorified watch dog.'

'And I'm sure you were both being a delight,' said Crowley, stepping back out into the night air and ushering her inside, 'Get the lights on and let's see what we're working with.'

Beelzebub grumbled under her breath but moved into the cottage all the same, lights soon spilling from various windows as Crowley returned to the van. Lucifer stood just inside the door, arms folded across his chest and several curses clearly wanting to pass his lips even as he forced them back. Michael was still sat on the sofa with God in her arms but her face was set in a scowl that only slightly lessened as Crowley came back inside.

'Nice to see the family is getting on swimmingly as always,' said the demon, crouching down to where Aziraphale was sat, propped against the small cupboards, 'You ok?'

Aziraphale nodded but the small smile he forced to his lips quickly faltered, 'Where are we?'

'Near some place called Abney,' said Crowley, 'Found us somewhere to stay whilst you recover and we work out what we're going to do. You've been asleep for a few hours, you're bound to feel disorientated. Can you walk?'

Aziraphale nodded, climbing shakily to his feet as Crowley helped him, keeping hold of his arm even when he was upright.

'Michael, you need to let Lucifer help you,' said Crowley, 'Once we're inside we can start making sense of things and it won't hurt to let Her lie down somewhere a little more comfortable.'

The Archangel nodded, relinquishing her hold on God as Lucifer crossed the room and took Her from her arms, 'Be gentle with Her,' she said, 'Please.'

Lucifer nodded, 'Put your hand on my shoulder if you need support too,' he said.

Michael got to her feet but kept her hands at her side as she followed him to the door, moving gingerly down the steps and towards the house. Crowley led Aziraphale the same way, glad that he was far steadier than he had been when they had been leaving the hospital. 

The gasp that escaped the angel as they stepped around to the front of the cottage made him pause but he smiled as he realised it was the view that had prompted the response. The cottage was now well lit, even the upstairs rooms throwing light upon the ground but it did little to hide the expanse of sky above them broken here and there by the shadowy outlines of the peaks. 

'Crowley this is beautiful,' said Aziraphale, 'However did you find it?'

'Anathema,' he said, 'She's leased it for us for a few days. We need to get you and Michael strong again and work out what we're going to do next. Tonight though we all need to rest. Lucifer and Beelzebub have agreed to keep watch for a while and then I'll take over from them.'

'Will you stay with me until then?' said Aziraphale, around a yawn, 'I could definitely sleep again.'

'No place I'd rather be,' said Crowley, leading him towards the house, 'Let's just hope the bed's already made. Miracles are off limits.'

'Anything is better than that smelly old van.'

'Not going to argue with you there,' said Crowley as they stepped over the threshold and he closed the door behind them.


	12. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley deals with the changes coming over him but any grip he had on his past is called into question when he is faced by a conscious God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all. Thank you so much for the lovely reviews. I'm not sure it warrants a warning but for those who may want to know in advance, Crowley does not do well in this chapter with dealing with his memories of the Prince of Heaven and there is some emotional trauma mid way through the chapter. Nova xx

Crowley was certain he could recreate the pattern of the wallpaper on the wall opposite the bed to near perfection if challenged to. He had watched the muted moonlight trace across it for several hours when sleep had been elusive. 

He and Aziraphale had taken over the second largest bedroom in the cottage, Michael having already installed God in the largest. The Archangel had chosen to rest beside her mistress, contented enough when she was unhindered by any of the others. Crowley had been all to happy to leave her to it, seeking out the other bedroom without a second look at their sleeping patient. It had space enough for him and Aziraphale, giving them peace and privacy for a short while as Lucifer and Beelzebub took up the first watch. 

He had left the angel only briefly to retrieve the bags from the van that contained the meagre possessions they had brought from home, glad for Aziraphale's foresight as he found several changes of clothes including sleepwear for them both alongside additional pieces for Michael, which he left outside her door. He had returned to the bedroom to find the angel sat against the headboard, eyes heavy but still awake enough to offer him a small smile. 

Crowley had helped him to undress, the process a familiar one but hindered by the injuries that still lingered beneath Aziraphale's clothes. The angel had protested that miracles were forbidden when Crowley had moved a hand to cover one of the larger burns but he had been ignored, the demon healing the worst of them but leaving the ones that were capable of mending on their own. It had been almost familiar to dress in their nightclothes and slip beneath the covers of the bed, Aziraphale's warm flannel against the soft silk of Crowley's, but the strangeness could not be ignored. The linen held the smell of a professional launderers and the bed was harder than the soft mattress they shared at home. The most alien sensation though was when Aziraphale laid his head on Crowley's chest and promptly fell into a deep slumber, the position usual reversed with the demon sleeping against his husband as he sat up to read. 

Crowley had soon fallen asleep beside him, Lucifer having promised to wake him when the time came for him to take the watch, but it had been the nightmare that had roused him long before his watch was due to commence. He was only glad that the violent waking hadn't roused Aziraphale, managing to stifle a shout with his hand as he forced himself to push aside the memories of the cage that had tortured him. Sleep had eluded him from that moment on but he comforted himself instead by stroking the soft blond curls at his shoulder as he watched the moonlight track across the wall. 

Aziraphale stirred against him, resettling on the bed before he pressed closer to the demon's side. Crowley hushed him, pressing a kiss to his forehead as sleep kept hold of him, only the faint murmur of his name passing his lips as he settled again. Crowley reached for his phone on the night stand, frowning at the time. He considered getting up and relieving Lucifer and Beelzebub early but Aziraphale's warm weight against him was a greater pull. Instead he navigated to the photo album on the screen before him, looking through the collected memories he found there. He paused as he swiped to a photo of Warlock he had taken at their last but one meeting, the boy surprised that his nanny had had such a modern device but had submitted to being photographed all the same, framed in the background of Kew Gardens where they had spent several long, precious hours walking and talking, the future of their relationship as yet unknown and Crowley yearned to go back to the simpler times they had been. 

'Lovely picture,' came the murmur at his shoulder, 'Are you alright?'

'Yeah,' said Crowley, 'He'll be on his way to America in a day or two.'

'Oh love, we'll find a way for you to see him,' said Aziraphale, raising himself up on an elbow, 'When this is done, we'll find a way. I know how much you love him.'

Crowley smiled ruefully, letting the phone fall onto the mattress as he rolled onto his side to face him, 'Can we change the subject before I start making a fool of myself?' he said, 'How are you feeling?'

'Stronger,' said Aziraphale, fingers moving to Crowley's hair, smoothing the lengthening strands, 'And rested. Did you sleep at all?'

'A little,' said Crowley, 'Watching you sleep was better.'

Aziraphale smiled but then quickly frowned, 'You didn't take any pictures on that thing did you?'

Crowley grinned, 'No but I'll certainly keep it in mind for next time,' he said, 'You look adorable when you're asleep.'

'Still don't like sleeping,' said the angel, 'I feel all topsy-turvy. Has there been any news?'

'Nothing as yet. The house is quiet.'

'Hmm, calm before the storm I think,' said Aziraphale, 'We need to stop stumbling over one another and start making some concrete plans. Gabriel is not going to wait for us to work out what we're doing.'

'If you don't feel the need to sleep any more, we can get working,' said Crowley, 'I have to relieve the others in an hour anyway.'

'I'm tempted to keep you here for the hour but I suppose duty calls. I shall claim a kiss before we get up though.'

Crowley met his lips, still sleepy and soft, reminding him of many a night when he would wake in the angel's arm to the same touch. Warm fingers drew up his arm, caressing the silken sleeve before they reached his shoulder, the grip tightening slightly to pull him closer but it was enough to make him flinch.

'Did I hurt you?' said Aziraphale, pulling away with a frown, 'Your shoulder? That wasn't where... oh I told you that you'd hurt yourself.'

'It's nothing angel.'

'It's not nothing, you were hurt carrying me out of harm's way,' he said, a hand falling to his stomach, 'If I only I wasn't so...'

Crowley pressed a finger to his lips, 'Don't you dare finish that sentence, angel. Don't you dare,' he said, covering his hand with his own, 'You are beautiful and I love every inch of you and I will carry you from danger however many times I need to. It's a bruise, it will heal. You're not to think about changing a single part of you, do you understand, at least not for something as foolish as my shoulder.'

'At least let me take a look and heal it for you,' said Aziraphale, reaching for the buttons of Crowley's shirt and popping the first two.

'No miracles allowed, remember? Mine were demonic, I'm more likely to have got away with it. You on the other hand are directly under the heavenly microscope. It will be fine in a day or two. I'll hoist you onto my other shoulder until then,' said Crowley, smiling as Aziraphale laughed.

'I'll hold you to that,' he said, petting the skin he had already revealed, 'We should move.'

Crowley wanted to protest but he knew the minutes were swiftly dwindling until he would be called away. He pressed a swift kiss to the angels lips, returning for a more lingering touch before he pulled away, 'We should,' he said, 'Or we'll have Beelzebub walking in on us.'

Aziraphale shuddered, 'Yes, best avoided I should say,' he said, sitting up and stretching with a groan, 'I miss our bed.'

'Well we've had a fair go at breaking it in.'

'Oh you are wicked,' said the angel, shoving him to the edge of the bed, 'Away before you tempt me, husband.'

Crowley laughed, rolling over and fumbling with the unfamiliar lamp, finally finding the switch and bathing the room in the warm glow and chasing the shadows into the uneven corners. He swept aside the covers, slipping from the bed and padding across the carpet to the chair he had left their clothes on. Aziraphale took the neat pile of his own clothes, setting them down on the bed before he began to dress with his usual precision. Crowley cursed his own disregard for his clothes, too reliant on miracles to put them right as he was forced to straighten them before he could begin to dress. 

He unbuttoned his shirt, forcing himself not to show any pain as his shoulder smarted at the movement, not wanting to worry the angel any further. He heard the faint gasp behind him, the bruising he could feel clearly more pronounced than he thought as Aziraphale crossed the short distance between them, soft hands coming to rest against his back.

'Crowley...'

'It's not that bad angel,' he said, 'Just a bruise.'

'Not a bruise,' said Aziraphale, his fingers not coming to his shoulder but instead tracing where his wings would appear, 'I don't understand.'

Crowley tried to look over his shoulder but caught no more than a blond head bent in study of his skin, 'What's wrong?' he said, 'Aziraphale what are you doing?'

'Marks,' he said, fingers leaving the demon's skin as he headed to the bed, rifling through the covers until he found Crowley's abandoned phone, 'Put it on the camera, you need to see this.'

Crowley took the device, cursing the tremble in his fingers as he opened the camera and handed it back to Aziraphale. The angel turned him a little to the light before he heard the snap of a picture being taken. He held his hand out for the phone but Aziraphale took his hand instead, leading him back to the bed and sitting him down. 

'Don't get overwrought,' said the angel, 'You're going to stay calm.'

'Not if you carry on like that I'm not,' said Crowley, 'Give me the phone.'

Aziraphale handed it to him, the picture still on the screen a little off centre but the image was clear. Two graceful arcs swept around his shoulder blades, the precise size of his wing joints he was sure, the glitter of the gold apparent even in the still picture. He tossed the phone onto the bed, refusing to look at it a moment longer, forcing a smile to his face.

'Probably nothing,' he said, 'Something residual from the weird tantrum She had earlier.'

Aziraphale took his chin in his hand, 'Love,' he said, 'It's alright. It's alright. Your marks were golden swirls, you said. There's a certain flourish to these.'

'Don't go there Aziraphale, please, not now. Just something... a throwback, not been that close to that level of celestial energy for a while, triggered some recessive gene or something. Be gone in a day or two,' he said, feigning a shiver, 'Best get dressed, mountain air and all that.'

'Crowley...'

'Come on, angel, you and your six thousand layers need all the time you can get. Go down with your bowtie undone and they'll think you're indecent.'

'Darling, please...'

'Just leave it alone, Aziraphale,' he snapped, pushing his hand away.

The angel stepped back quickly, eyes falling to the carpet as he worried his hands together before him, 'Right. Yes. I'll just...'

Crowley reached out, taking hold of the fidgeting hands and pulling him closer, 'Sorry. I didn't mean to shout,' he said, pressing a kiss to the back of the angel's hand, 'I shouldn't be taking this out on you.'

'No, you should be talking to me,' said Aziraphale, 'Do you not think this frightens me too? Those are angel marks.'

Crowley dropped his gaze to the floor, 'I'm not an angel,' he said, cursing the crack in his voice.

Aziraphale's hands left his, instead, pulling him close, one hand moving to his hair and caressing it gently. 'I know, sweetheart,' he said, 'But you were and a mighty powerful one by the sound of it. In the last couple of days you've been able to do things I've never seen you do before. Whatever this metamorphosis is...'

'I'm not changing, angel,' said Crowley, 'I can't... I won't be that thing again.'

'Of course you won't because I'll do everything to prevent it,' said Aziraphale, 'But the chances of some angelic powers and features being restored seems more and more likely so you need to tell me when things change, if anything is different. I can't be surprised by anything if I need to protect you and you need to talk about what's happening, not push it away.'

Crowley pressed his face into the soft swell of his husband's stomach, 'I'm frightened,' he said softly, 'Terrified in fact. That...that...Her, next door. The things She did to me and I can't... I look at Her and it's like kneeling before Her again as She ripped out the braid you'd put in my hair and then wrapped me in that halo that stole everything. I cannot be that powerless again, Aziraphale. I can't risk it. She scares me.'

'She scares me too,' said Aziraphale, 'So much but Gabriel scares me more because he's isn't just a threat to us, he's threat to everyone. Adam, the children, Newt and Anathema and the baby. Warlock. They're all at risk if he's allowed to continue. I don't like this any more than you do but She is, and I hope I'm forgiven for saying it, the lesser of two evils right now. She and Lucifer have balanced this world, regardless of Her past actions. Now I am your side, for all that is worth if it came to a fight, and I will hold back any cage that threatens you, even if it's the last thing I ever do.'

Crowley said nothing, not trusting his voice not to break if he tried. Instead he pressed closer to the angel before him, eyes tightly shut against the tears that threatened. Warm fingers kept a steady pace through his hair, running from root to tip, working through the small snags that had taken hold whilst they had been sleeping. He smiled as he felt lips press to the crown of his head, lingering for a moment before Aziraphale gently took his face in his hands, coaxing him to look up at him. 

'Whatever happens, you tell me. Promise me?' said the angel.

Crowley nodded, 'I promise,' he said, 'I may try your patience a bit until this is sorted.'

Aziraphale tugged a strand of his hair, 'No change there then,' he said, leaning down to kiss him, 'Now put some clothes on, we have work to do and I can't do it with you being all distracting, my dear.'

Though he was reluctant to leave the security of the familiar embrace, Crowley let him go, the both of them dressing in easy silence until they were both outwardly ready to move forward with the journey they had found themselves on. Crowley had slipped on his glasses just as time seemed determined to catch up with them, a knock coming on the door as Aziraphale finished fastening the buttons on his waistcoat. The angel spared a quick glance to Crowley before he opened the door.

'You need to come with me.'

Lucifer's words were a command rather than an invitation, not pausing for an answer as he headed down the corridor. They followed him even as he lead them towards the room that Michael had taken for her and God rather than to the stairs. 

'What's going on?' asked Crowley, 'And where's Beelzebub?'

'She's on the roof, keeping watch,' said Lucifer, 'As for what's going on, see for yourself.'

He tapped on the door before he pushed it open, stepping inside and holding it for Aziraphale and Crowley to follow him in. The demon was glad that his husband was the first inside, allowing him at least the semblance of a barrier between him and the two figures watching them enter. Michael's eyes were wet with tears but the smile on her face spoke of joy rather than sorrow, her hand clutching desperately at the pale hand that had caused so much damage hours before. The woman beside her was outwardly just as the word described. To anyone asked to describe Her appearance they would have used the words blonde, early-middle age, attractive, bland every day words but were they to look into the eyes that at one moment seemed blue and the next another colour on the vast seen and unseen spectrum they would have seen something different, something that almost forced their eyes away, unable to linger for too long.

'She woke about a quarter of an hour ago,' said Michael softly, 'We're still coming to terms with things but She's awake at last.'

Crowley fisted a hand into the back of Aziraphale's cream coat, anchoring himself as he longed to shrink away from the eyes that seemed intent on finding him. An uneasy silence did nothing to help the pounding of his heart, the fear forcing its way up his throat in an attempt to choke him. She looked vulnerable, human and small in the large bed, but he wanted to cower all the same, to run away from the eyes that had once looked upon him in love only to turn to anger and malice. It was Aziraphale's voice that finally broke the silence, pulling Crowley away from the panic that seemed to be settling into his bones.

'It is a challenge to know how to respond in this sort of situation,' he said, 'Greetings and such. We are on somewhat uncommon ground.'

'Indeed,' said Lucifer, 'And more so as there seems to be issues with communication.'

'The vessel isn't the same as ours and we have all grown used to the forms we take,' said Michael, smiling at the woman beside her, 'Things must be learned but we shall manage. Speech isn't the only route for communication.'

'I wouldn't even know where to begin,' said Aziraphale, his tone soft, turning the final words into almost a whisper. 

Crowley tightened his hand in the back of his coat as he watched the pale hand, not held by Michael, extend palm up towards the angel. An invitation, almost beckoning and Crowley felt the angel begin to move towards it. 

'No!' he shouted, using what leverage he had to drag Aziraphale behind him, moving himself between them, 'No You don't get to touch him again, not after what You did.'

Ethereal eyes flashed red with anger for a moment before they softened again, curiosity overtaking all else as She regarded him. Her hand moved slowly, turning over to point directly at him before She turned her hand palm up once more, offering it up to him. 

'You think I want to touch You? That I would ever want to be within reach of Your hands ever again?' he hissed.

'Raphael, whilst I understand your anger, I would suggest modifying the tone of your voice,' said Lucifer.

Crowley wanted to question his loyalties but the name he had given him, the name Lucifer had not been able to stop using since the moment he had returned his memories, made the eyes that had studied him in question widen in full understanding. If he had had any anonymity in his demon form it had been erased with a word and he felt the fear rush through him anew as the questing hand grew more desperate. With Aziraphale at his back he could not escape quickly enough as, with an unexpected speed, She pushed herself towards him, hand reaching but rather than allow Her to take hold of him he instead captured Her wrist in his own hand.

'No!' he said, feeling the delicate bones beneath the slim wrist, so easily broken regardless of the spirit within the vessel, 'No, You touch me again and I will find a way to make sure You never touch anyone else. I don't care who You are.'

He had expected a protest from Aziraphale or a curse from Lucifer at his words. What he had not expected was to find himself ripped bodily away and slammed face first into the nearest wall, his arm painfully wrenched up his back with preternatural speed and strength.

'Watch yourself, demon,' said Michael, her tone low and threatening in his ear, 'I may not be who I was but enough remains for me to do you harm. Threaten Her again, even so much as look upon Her with anything other than the respect She commands of us all, and you will answer to me.'

'Your loyalties change like the tides,' said Crowley, struggling against her grip, 'Weren't you my champion this morning?'

'My loyalty has always been to the Almighty,' said Michael, 'My defence of you was purely due to your usefulness in finding Her, demon.'

'Doesn't look very almighty to me,' said Crowley, 'Looks like the rest of Heaven. Cold and cruel and a little bit pointless.'

'Crowley, you don't know what you're saying,' said Aziraphale, 'Michael, please let him loose. I promise he won't say anything like that again.'

'Oh won't I now,' he said, shaking himself off as Michael finally released him, though she hovered close enough to strike him again if she chose to.

'No you won't,' said Aziraphale, 'You are better than this Crowley. You don't need to behave like this, we all understand...'

Crowley held up a hand to stop him, 'Don't you dare blanket this room with the statement that you understand what She put me through. That thing caged me, tortured me and I am expected to stand here and play nice. Should I kneel as I knelt then? Should I trust as I trusted then? Do I offer myself to Heaven's chains now Hell's have been broken?'

'Please, my love, you're in the presence of God.'

'And who matters to you more right now, Aziraphale? Me or Her? Snap answer,' he said, shaking his head as the angel hesitated, 'And there we go. Heaven wins. Heaven always wins.'

'Crowley...'

'No. No right now, I'm done. I'm done with all of you,' he said, 'Even the devil himself allies with Heaven, after all She did. Damn you all then because She will in the end. I'm out.'

He pushed his way out of the room, shaking off Aziraphale's hand with more violence than he had ever turned on him as he tried to take hold of him. He heard Lucifer's words to leave him but he didn't stop and didn't look back, taking the stairs two at a time, glad there was only a short distance between them and the door as he wrenched in open and headed out into the darkness that surrounded them. His heart felt as though a hand was squeezing it, the beat erratic as it tried to break free. His treacherous mind threw up memories of the glittering jewels that had encased him, the heavy weight of the chains he no longer wore making his steps sluggish. Ice rushed through his veins, his body numb even as it kept moving, but his mind burned. He found the blindness overcoming him and shook it away, forcing the memory back as far as he could. 

There was grass beneath his feet when heard someone hurrying behind him. The lights of the house were far behind when his pursuer finally caught up with him, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him to a halt. He stumbled, falling to his knees, hearing Lucifer's grunt of effort to keep hold of him as he too reached the ground.

'Be still, brother, just be still,' said Lucifer, 'I have you.'

Though his body was still, Crowley could not help the screaming cry that ripped from his lungs, so similar to the sound that had left him as he was thrown from Heaven. The torment and the agony was as fresh as the moment he had been damned, his body awash with hurt and shame and the gut-wrenching loss that had accompanied the Fall. 

Lucifer held him fast, strong against his back as the screams refused to abate. It was only when his throat was raw and ragged that sobs replaced his cry, heaving from deeper inside of him than he thought even pain could reach. 

'Take them away,' he begged, 'Lucifer, please. Take them away again. I can't feel this pain any more. I can't carry that memory, it's killing me.'

'I don't know that I can,' said Lucifer, 'And that is the truth of it. Back then we were all different, our powers were stronger. Now we are all diminished and I dare not risk it, it could destroy you.'

The words hit him harder than any weapon he could, his mind throwing up the memory of when those same words had been spoken by another. When his plea for help had been refused. The arms holding him loosened as he folded in on himself with an agonised moan, curling as tightly as he could as his forehead came to rest on the cool, wet grass. 

'Then leave me alone,' he said, 'Just leave me alone.'

'No I shan't leave you,' said Lucifer, 'Because someone has to bring you back from this path you have taken and I shall not let Aziraphale suffer it. You are scared and rightly so. You are wounded and you seek justice but that cannot come from turning on your friends. There is a powerful entity in that room and Her very presence affects us all in ways we cannot explain. She is the creator of all of us, She has power over us even now. You and I are distanced because of the Fall, we can bear Her gaze, Her presence better but not fully. Michael and Aziraphale are angels, they are Hers whether they wish to be or not. You cannot blame either of them if they cannot speak against Her in Her presence. Raphael, She is beyond our understanding, beyond all we know and it is unjust for you to ask Aziraphale to choose. She holds his chains as I once held yours, even now. You cannot blame him for his hesitance. You do him no justice in such a demand. You may as well ask him to slice himself in two and bleed onto the floor for you, you would cause him as much pain. I do not ask you to accept Her. I do not ask you to offer yourself to Her service in any way. What I do ask, as your brother, as one who loved you when he had the strength to do so, is that you try to understand what you ask of the angels and what we risk if we do not work together.'

'I can't face Her, Lucifer,' Crowley wept, 'I look at Her and all I see is that cage. She looks at me and it's like She's waiting for the moment She can turn me into that again. I would writhe in the deepest pit for eternity before I submitted to that again. I don't know that I can be a part of this.'

'That is your choice to make,' said Lucifer, 'And you can make it freely. Neither She or I hold you. But should you walk away, should you decide that this pain is too much, you need to be prepared for Aziraphale to stay. His loyalty to you in unshakeable but he is compelled by his very nature, by the very essence of his existence to serve Her and She will need him. I am sorry, brother, but I cannot and will not tell you anything else. I am not here to appease you or comfort you. I am to counsel you. There is a battle to be faced and you need to decide whether you are with us or not.'

'What kind of a choice is that? Abandon him to save myself.'

'That is the choice that is before you,' said Lucifer, moving around him until they were face to face, his hands slowly lifting Crowley back up to sitting, 'There is a strength in you that broke through so much. You should not be able to love yet love you have. You held onto the most essential parts of your soul even when the Fall should have stolen them. I can feel your fear, I can feel the pain that is in you but you are strong. You're so strong.'

Crowley shook his head, 'I don't think I am. I barely escaped Her last time and it cost me everything to do so,' he said, 'If She knows it was Aziraphale that pulled me back, gave me the strength to break Her hold on me, what if She makes sure he can't this time? She could hurt him to cage me.'

Lucifer laid a cool hand against his head, the gesture stirring a lingering memory in Crowley of their earliest days in Heaven when they were new. They had been brothers to one another from the moment they had awoken, gravitating back towards one another even as Heaven grew larger, seeking each other for comfort and reassurance. The touch one they so often visited on each other and it brought a comfort to them both so many thousands of years later.

'You think too much, brother,' said Lucifer, 'There is nothing to say She wishes to make you Her prince again. She had the power in Heaven to cage you rather than expel you, She chose the latter. We cannot know Her motives until we can better communicate with Her. Do not fear for Aziraphale either, you protected him well enough on your own, now he has me and through me Beelzebub to stand in the way of any intent to harm him. I cannot however speak for Michael, her loyalties are as they have always been, she will not readily question God, despite what she has come to know.'

Crowley managed a weak smile, 'You'd protect him.'

Lucifer nodded, 'For you, for the fact that he is brave, for the fact that he is more cunning than any demon I have ever known but mainly for the fact that I remember him when he was new,' he said, 'You may have been the one to fall in love with him but I was fond of him, for his power back then to put a smile on your face that I had never seen before and the memory of that is enough. He is good for you, he always was, and as such I must counsel you in regard to this belief that She will somehow harm him to get to you. How easily that notion could twist in your head so that you believe She is using him against you, that he is in league with Her to harm you. I am not saying that is the intent but I know your head, I know the risk you run of believing such falsehoods. If you stay with us then trust him entirely. Never doubt him because if you do, one day you'll see eyes that once looked on you with warmth turn cold and that's a pain that will eclipse anything you have ever felt.'

Crowley frowned, the words far too assured to be a simple warning, 'Lucifer?'

The Lord of Hell smiled sadly, 'Just don't let it happen, brother,' he said, 'Whatever you decide, promise me that you'll trust him.'

'If he trusts me again after what I said in there,' said Crowley, looking over his shoulder at the cottage, amazed at how far he had run in his panic before Lucifer had reached him, 'I should go back.'

'He is waiting for you. He was all for coming after you but I persuaded him to let me come instead, though if we stay out here much longer he will be coming to find us,' said Lucifer, 'If you need longer to think though I can return and let him know you are alright for the moment.'

Crowley laughed though the sound caught in his throat, 'Is that a professional observation? I am far from alright but it's not as pronounced as it was. It's dulled, like it was before we found Her. Seeing Her though...'

'I know,' said Lucifer, 'Believe me I felt similar when She first looked at me. Though She and I have communicated since the Fall it has not been on such a footing. It is like looking into the very heart of the universe to look into those eyes. She strips us bare. I am easily reminded that I am not what I am. I am a product of Her mind and as easily destroyed as a wayward thought. That power has been distant for so long.'

'We make quite the pair.'

'Didn't we always,' said Lucifer, looking up once more, a smile coming to his lips, 'It seems we weren't quick enough in our return. Your beloved comes. Do you want me to stay with you?'

Crowley shook his head, 'We'll be fine,' he said, 'But thank you. I feel a little stronger.'

'I might not be the Lucifer you knew in Heaven but I remember him and what we were to each other.'

'You are more him than you know,' said Crowley, taking hold of his hand as he had done so often when they were young.

'On your feet now,' said Lucifer, a look far softer than anything he would ever own passing over his face before he shook it away, 'I will be in the house if required.'

Lucifer helped Crowley to stand, steadying him as he wobbled, before he stepped away with a small but genuine bow. Crowley returned the genuflection, turning back towards the house to see Aziraphale coming towards them. He wanted to close the distance between them but didn't trust his legs to carry him without Lucifer to support him. He watched as his former master headed back towards the house, pausing to speak briefly to the angel who nodded before returning his gaze to Crowley and hurrying his steps.

The demon held out his hands the moment the angel was within touching distance, breathing a sigh of relief when they were taken without question. He pulled them both in towards him, bending to press his forehead to them, unashamed of the few tears that leaked out to fall onto their skin.

'I'm sorry, angel,' he said, voice trembling on the words, 'I shouldn't have...'

'Hush,' said Aziraphale, 'Crowley, look at me, sweetheart.'

He hesitated for a moment before raising his head. Aziraphale's hands left his, gently slipping the glasses from his eyes and tucking them safely into his pocket before he took hold of his face in his hands. Crowley wanted to beg for them back but instead he held his husband's gaze, seeing the reflection of his own fear and sorrow in the eyes before him.

'I don't know what to say. What to do,' said the angel, 'I don't know how to help you.'

'I wish I could give you an answer,' said Crowley, 'I'm so sorry for what I said in there.'

Aziraphale smiled through his tears, 'You've apologised already. What was said in there was said in panic, I know that,' he said, 'I'm only sorry I made you doubt.'

'It was unfair of me to ask you that. You're an angel and you are bound to Her.'

'I'm bound to you too,' said Aziraphale, 'My life starts and ends with you and I feel your suffering as keenly as though it were my own. Tell me what we do now because we are doing this together, whichever way it goes.'

Crowley sighed, 'I want us to run but that was my idea last time and look where it got us,' he said, 'I don't know if I will be able to handle what's coming but I can't ask you to leave and I can't go without you.'

'And God? She's a part of this and you will have to see Her.'

'Just be there with me and let me keep my distance,' he said, 'And tell Her to keep Hers.'

Aziraphale nodded, 'I've said as much to Michael already. Nothing in that room went as it should have done and we all need ground rules from here on in,' he said, 'Even God.'

'Well you can be the one to tell Her that,' said Crowley, glad for the laugh it gained but his thoughts quickly grew serious, 'Are we ok?'

Aziraphale nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips, 'Of course we are you silly old serpent,' he said, 'I love you.'

'I don't deserve you.'

'Yes you do,' said Aziraphale, 'Are you ready to come back inside? Find somewhere we can talk.'

Crowley nodded, trying to push down the tremble that passed through him at the thought but he knew Aziraphale felt it as he stroked his hair.

'I'll be right beside you,' he said, 'You don't need to be afraid.'

'Just keep telling me that,' said Crowley, taking hold of his hand, 'And don't let go.'

'Never,' said Aziraphale, far more weight behind that word than the mere promise to keep hold of his hand.

They turned back towards the house, the sky starting to pink a little with the coming dawn. It picked out the dark shape of the house, Beelzebub apparent as she sat against the small chimney in her lonely watch. They had reached the driveway when they saw her sit up a little straighter, the sound that had roused her meeting them moments later. The faint echoing banging was hard to place for a moment before they looked up, both of them grinding to a halt as they saw the figure of God against the window, hands frantically pounding on the glass. The panic was apparent in Her face, eyes wide and pleading as She caught sight of them. 

Crowley froze, hand tightening on Aziraphale's, 'I can't...' he began until Lucifer appeared beside Her in the glass, throwing open the window.

'It's Michael,' he called out, 'She needs help. Quickly. Please.'

The final word was shouted with such passion and need that it broke through the fear that held Crowley to the floor, the plea reminiscent of the scant few moments Lucifer had begged for his aide in Heaven. As swiftly as he had run from the building, he now ran towards it as both God and Lucifer disappeared from the window.


	13. Charades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Michael is taken ill, they struggle to find a way to cure her before they are faced with the true scale of the journey before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in posting. If anyone would like to join me on tumblr you can find me at witchnova221 on there. Would love to connect with you all. xx

The feeling of control Crowley had briefly felt when he had instructed Beelzebub to maintain her vigil on the roof fled as soon as they entered the house and he was glad for Aziraphale's sure grip on his hand as they reached the door of the bedroom. His eyes fell upon God first, looking small in Her hospital gown, blonde hair wild around Her but it was the expression of fear on Her face that threw him, never having seen such genuine worry on Her formerly serene countenance. She was the opposite side of the bed from the door, the expanse of it at least giving him enough of a barrier to dare approach, even as he kept tight hold of Aziraphale's hand.

Lucifer spared them a brief glance as they entered before his attention was focused on Michael once more, speaking to her as she lay on the bed but whatever he was saying seemed to be lost on her, her eyes glassy and lost, failing to focus even as Crowley and Aziraphale came towards them.

'What happened?' said the angel, kneeling beside the bed.

'I don't know,' said Lucifer, 'We were talking and she said her head hurt. I suggested she rested and then she just fainted.'

'I can't feel any celestial influence on her,' said Aziraphale, 'Nothing that would suggest interference from the outside.'

Lucifer shook his head, 'I felt nothing when she fell,' he said, taking hold of her hand as she reached out for him, 'She feels cold.'

Aziraphale looked over to the silent figure the other side of the bed, 'Forgive me for the question but...when we were in the hospital and we touched, You...I struggled with the energy transfer,' he said, 'Did You and Michael...?'

God shook her head vigorously, tears in Her eyes as she hovered unsure by the bed. She pressed a hand to Her head, Her face pained before she pointed to Michael.

'Headache?' said Aziraphale, receiving a nod in response.

The mime continued, fingers touching Her lips before splaying out from them quickly.

'Mouth?' said Aziraphale, a shake of Her head making him choose another word, 'Cough? Shout? Words?'

She nodded as he hit the word, miming it again before rolling Her fingers over each other, Her face setting itself into a frown.

'Confused words?' said Crowley, before Aziraphale could speak, 'Her words were confused and she's cold. Let me get to her.'

'Crowley, what's the matter?' said Aziraphale, stepping back to let him closer to Michael.

'Not sure yet but the symptoms are starting to point somewhere not so good,' he said, sitting on the side of the bed and pressing a hand to her forehead, 'Cool, clammy too. Her lips don't look right. Help me get this jacket off her. What is it with angels and layers?'

'You chose those clothes for her,' said Aziraphale.

'Clothes that she hasn't changed out of since the morning I gave them to her,' he said, 'Which means we've neglected what was beneath. Her wings or at least...'

'Her injuries,' said Aziraphale, 'Oh no.'

'What about her injuries?' said Lucifer, supporting Michael as Crowley set to work removing her jacket.

'I couldn't heal them fully,' said Aziraphale, 'Where her wings joints are, the wounds refused to close properly. She was bleeding so we bandaged them.'

'And we've ignored them since,' said Crowley, chucking the light blue jacket on the floor and setting to work on the buttons of her sleeve, pushing it up to reveal the pale skin of her arm beneath, the livid, bruise like marks stark, 'Shit.'

'What is it? What's wrong?' asked Aziraphale as Crowley snatched a half empty glass from the night stand, chucking the water onto the carpet.

'Remember that night at the Dowling's when Warlock was small and I ran to your cottage with him?' said Crowley, pressing the glass to the marks on Michael's arm and swearing when they didn't disappear, 'Don't suppose you could pull the same miracle you did then, can you?'

Aziraphale paled, 'Sepsis? Are you sure? She's an angel.'

'In a mortal body,' said Crowley, 'It won't heal itself like we do on instinct. Can you help her? It needs to be celestial, it's beyond a demon to heal like that.'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'I'm not strong enough, not yet,' he said, 'I might be able to slow it for a while though.'

Crowley shook his head, 'We'd have to get her to a hospital, hope the humans could help.'

'You can't,' said Lucifer, 'How do you explain the injuries? From what you told me the wing joints are still there even if the wings aren't. They'd cut her open. I won't let her be some lab rat.'

'You'd rather she died?' said Crowley, 'Humans are stupid about things like this. They'll see a deformity, not an angel.'

'We can't risk her or the time, we have to stay focused.'

Crowley's answer was lost as another figure climbed onto the bed, God pushing Lucifer to the side as She hovered over Michael. He wanted to flinch back, run away from Her once more but Her gaze was on Her warrior rather than him.

'Can You do it?' he asked, 'Can You heal her?'

She shook Her head, fathomless eyes meeting his before She pointed to him. 

'I can't, I'm a demon. This is too much, too deep. My powers don't work that way,' he said.

She pointed at him more forcefully before down at Michael whose shallow breathing was more apparent through the thin blouse she wore. Crowley yelped as She took hold of his hands, pulling them closer to Michael.

'I can't,' he said, 'I'm not an angel any more.'

An eyebrow cocked before She shook Her head, pressing his hands gently to Michael's shoulders before She released him. She tapped the palm of Her hand to Her own chest, eyes begging him to understand. Crowley shook his head, the fingers of one hand pressing to Michael's neck and feeling the thready pulse that was all too mortal beneath them.

'In Your name?' he said, receiving a nod in reply, 'I can't. I fell.'

'She believes you can, Crowley,' said Aziraphale, laying a hand on his back, 'And you've always been different from the others. Try. For Michael's sake. Just try.'

Crowley looked back at the angel, yellow eyes wide and and threatening tears but he shook them away as Aziraphale nodded, pressing his hand a little firmer against his back.

'I believe you can too,' he said, 'You can do this Crowley.'

'I'm a demon,' said Crowley, looking down at Michael as she moaned in pain, 'If I hurt her...'

'Better than her dying,' said Lucifer, 'Her body is mortal but the spirit inside it isn't. If she isn't immediately sent to Hell for whatever infraction Gabriel has deemed worthy of it now then she will be back at their mercy. You have to do something.'

Crowley closed his eyes before he nodded, 'I'll try.'

He tightened his grip on Michael's shoulders even as she whimpered in discomfort. Powers he knew well came to the fore as he pushed his thoughts into healing her but they were not strong enough to draw the poison from her blood. He opened his eyes, ready to admit defeat, meeting the eyes of God as She pressed Her hand to Her chest once more. 

In Her name. He had done it before, so easily if his restored memory was true to him. It had barely taken any effort, he had merely to think of it healing with the faith he had and any wound before him closed. Faith in Her. That was where he felt himself stumble, where the trauma pushed back against the memory of the power She had given him. He tore his eyes from Her's, instead focusing on Michael even as she seemed to be fading before him. He was unsure if he could call her a friend, they had fought as much as they had worked together. She had been one of the group who had made Aziraphale a target for so many years but she had sought them out when hope was lost, trusted them despite everything to help her and he refused to fail her.

He could not yet countenance having faith in the God that had abandoned him but the power had always felt deeper than an entity. It was the power that had spawned galaxies more beautiful even than the plans She had given him. It was the power that had birthed Eden from nothing but dust and his own imagination. It was the power that had kept his love for Aziraphale whole and strong even as he was cast out of Heaven, safe and protected in his heart until they were reunited. His power. The power She had given him. It was Hers originally but his to wield.

He felt a heat in his chest, instinct swiftly trying to counter it as it always did when it sensed any celestial influence but he pushed it aside, bearing the pain as he had once done in a church as bombs shattered London around them. He kept his eyes on Michael as he let the sensation bloom, shifting itself through his limbs and into the hands that held her. 

Bodies became a nebulous thought, he was energy, coursing through unfamiliar veins and seeking out the sickness that ran in them, swallowing it up and obliterating it. He sought fear and soothed it. Sought pain and dulled its ache. Sought injury and made it whole. He felt skin cover abused joints, sealing them, protecting them until one day the source of his own power could bring Herself to make them whole once more.

When there was nothing else to heal, he floated, forgetting pain, forgetting the form that looked like he had once looked but more broken and scarred, forgetting the other form, the one that crawled and terrified and tempted. He forgot it all, remembering instead stars and planets and nebula swirling around him, a part of him painted across the heavens. He was happy to stay with them forever until he heard a word whispered softly in his ear. A short, piercing word from a voice that called to him as much as the stars. A name he remembered. Not the one She had given him. Not the one he had tried to hide behind before the pain came. It was a name he had chosen as he had walked amongst men, a name that was her and him, snake and human formed, it was black wings and grey wings and wedding rings. It was black against cream. His name, spoken like a plea in his ear. He moved towards it, trying to remember how all the parts of him fit together into the form the voice wished for. The voice kept calling, warm and safe and always there. He reached for it, caught hold and let it pull him home.

xxxx

Aziraphale shifted slightly under the heavy weight of his husband, getting as comfortable as he could on the bedroom floor as he ran fingers through the long red hair in his lap before trailing them down to brush the large silver grey and black wings that carpeted the floor around him. He looked up at the bed beside him, watching as Michael was helped back to sitting by Lucifer and God, her colour returning as she settled back against the pillows. 

'What happened to me?' she asked, 'I felt awful and then it all went away.'

'A miracle happened,' said Lucifer, his tone still ringing with disbelief, 'He healed you.'

'Aziraphale?' said Michael.

'Not me,' said the angel, smiling at her shocked expression as she looked down at him from the bed, 'Crowley did it.'

'His wings?' she said, 'Look at them.'

'They're closer to the colour they were in heaven,' said Lucifer, 'Though not as large. Whatever is happening to him is changing them.'

Michael looked over to God. 'He's been forgiven?'

God opened Her hands in response, with a shrug of Her shoulders. 

'You don't know?' said Aziraphale, 'How can You not know? Only You have the power to forgive and for him to be like this.'

She smiled, slipping from the bed and kneeling beside them. She reached out a hand towards the mess of red hair but Aziraphale placed a hand over Crowley's head with a frown.

'I shouldn't let You pet him,' he said, 'I'm sorry but Your touch frightened him and he's not awake to say yes or no. It's not fair to do it without his consent. Please don't.'

She drew back Her hand with a small nod though Her smile fled Her lips. Aziraphale kept his hand carefully over Crowley's head, almost wanting to wrap his own wings around them both in an effort to shield him even as She retreated to the bed once more. He looked down as Crowley began to stir, snuggling against the pillow of his thigh as he often did when he slept as Aziraphale sat up in bed to read. It was an achingly familiar sensation but one that threw their surroundings into stark relief. 

'Hello darling,' he said, stroking through the long red hair, 'Easy now. Give yourself a moment.'

Crowley rolled over a little, golden eyes blinking up at him, the snake-like pupils as wide as it was possible for them to go in the low light, 'Hmmm? Hey angel,' he murmured, shifting a little and flinching as he rolled a little too far onto his wing, 'What?'

He sat up, moving the wing round in front of him, hands grasping the feathers none too gently, 'What happened to me?'

'Careful,' said Aziraphale, reaching out to loosen his grip, straightening the abused feathers, 'You healed Michael but it seems, whatever you did, resulted in this.'

Crowley sighed, 'I remember, I...' he paused, shaking the wings back out of view, leaving his outward appearance as it usually was, 'It is what it is.'

'Are you alright?' said Aziraphale, taking hold of his hand.

Crowley shook his head as he squeezed his hand, 'But we have work to do,' he said, getting to his feet and pulling the angel to his, 'How are you, Michael?'

'Better, thanks to you it seems. I don't...'

Crowley waved down any further words, 'Let's just not, all of us ok?' he said, 'Now is anyone else planning on getting sick or zapped or having some celestial tantrum or can we finally sit down and work out what we're doing because right I want this done and then I want to go home.'

'I think we're all as healthy as we're ever going to be,' said Lucifer, 'And you're right, we need to plan, not least because we can't stay here for long. Whichever way your power to heal Michael came from, Heaven is going to have noticed.'

'Then if they're coming we can risk a few more miracles,' said Crowley, 'First and foremost, get Bertha Mason over there in something more useful than a dish cloth. We'll be downstairs with the prophecies when you're done. Come on, angel.'

Aziraphale hurried along behind him, looking back over his shoulder to see the three they had left behind exchanging worried looks before he rounded the door, cutting off his view. He caught up to Crowley on the stairs, the set of his shoulders tense as he descended them.

'Did you just refer to God Herself as Bertha Mason?' he said.

Crowley spared him a brief look over his shoulder, 'Running around in, ok, a floor down from the attic in Her nightdress and let's face it, bit nuts. Thought it suited.'

Aziraphale pinched the bridge of his nose, 'I am not even going to start with how wholly inappropriate that is,' he said, 'Crowley I know this is hard for you but you just can't behave like that, She's God.'

'And I don't care,' said Crowley, 'I don't want to be near Her. I don't want to be in the same realm as Her. She makes my skin crawl and I can't deal with that by being polite and respectful just because that's how we talk to God. Maybe I could before I remembered but now I can't.'

Aziraphale pulled him to a halt as they hit the hall. 'You healed Michael in Her name.'

Crowley's head dropped before he turned around to face him, 'No I didn't,' he said, 'I felt the power as I remembered it. The power that had been mine and I used it but I rejected Her name when I did it.'

'I don't understand,' said Aziraphale, 'How is that even possible?'

Crowley shrugged, 'I don't know but it's what I did,' he said, enclosing Aziraphale's hand in both of his, 'Look, I know I was a bit out of line up there and I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I'll try to behave myself from now on. Would you do something for me though?'

'Name it,' said Aziraphale without hesitation.

'Help me,' said Crowley, 'I need your clever head. Try and work out what's happening to me because it is pure stubbornness that's holding me together right now and I'm scared. I need you, love.'

Aziraphale pulled him close with his free hand, 'I'm here and I'll do whatever I can,' he said, 'Just keep talking to me.'

Crowley pressed his face into his neck for a moment before he pulled away with a sniff, any fear chased away from view, 'Right,' he said, 'I'm going to go outside and get Beelzebub down from the roof. Can you herd the rest down if they don't appear soon?'

Aziraphale nodded, trying his best to keep the fear from his own face but knowing he had failed when Crowley took hold of his face in his hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

'I'll be alright, angel,' said the demon, 'Promise.'

'I'm going to hold you to that,' said Aziraphale, 'Go fetch Beelzebub, I'll set everything up.'

Crowley headed to the door, stepping out into the rising dawn, as Aziraphale made for the kitchen, flicking on the overhead light despite not having any true need for it, the harsh electric light at least chasing away some of the shadows that seemed to be chasing him. He scrounged around the unfamiliar kitchen, finding what he needed to make tea but the simple ritual that was normally so comforting, a prelude to a quiet evening, brought nothing of the sort. He sniffed back the tears that threatened him, the toll of the night and his worry for Crowley compounding the general fear that surrounded them all. 

He was glad for the company as Crowley and Beelzebub returned, the Prince of Hell looking awkward as she hovered beside the kitchen table before finally sitting down. Aziraphale hurried the tea to the table as he heard footsteps on the stairs, Crowley already spreading out the prophecies on the table. He watched as Crowley sat a little straighter in his chair as God entered ahead of Michael and Lucifer, her hospital gown replaced by an outfit similar to the suits that Beelzebub and Lucifer had chosen to wear but in a dove grey rather than black, her blonde hair plaited down her back and making her look even more human than before. 

Silence hung over them as everyone waited for someone to begin, statuses and expectations having grown confused since they had all been thrown together. When nothing was forthcoming even from Lucifer, Aziraphale dragged the prophecies towards himself and cleared his throat.

'I've studied these at length but I can't make much sense from them as to what we should do next,' he began, 'I suppose the question should be what do You wish for us to do, Lord? Is it Your wish to return to Heaven and if so do You know what we need to do?'

She nodded before pointing to Herself then grasping Her hands towards Her chest.

'I was never good at charades,' said Crowley, earning himself a shift knock to the shin by Aziraphale's shoe.

'You,' the angel tried to translate, 'Drag? Grasp? Take?'

A shake of Her head answered him before She repeated the mime, frustration written over Her face.

'We'll get there,' said Aziraphale, as She gentled Her hands a little in the motion, 'Pull? Hold?'

'Need?' said Michael, a pleased nod meeting the word from her mistress.

'You need...' Aziraphale carried on as She managed a much more obvious mime, 'Strength. Halo? Angelic strength. You need Your power back? How do we do that?'

She repeated the mime that had given him halo before She laid Her hands deliberately on the table. 

'An angelic place?' said Lucifer, 'A holy place. You need to go to a holy place. Where?'

She frowned, hands held in front of Her but not moving as She struggled to find a way to communicate Her needs.

'A church is holy,' said Beelzebub, 'Or a cathedral, isn't that where you found Her?'

God shook Her head, holding Her fingers only an inch apart.

'Too small,' said Crowley, 'Bigger than a cathedral. Vatican? Whole place is practically one big church.'

Lucifer groaned, 'Catholics give me a headache.'

God shook Her head again but not before She had given Lucifer a displeased look. She held Her hands a little further apart.

'Bigger than the Vatican,' said Aziraphale, 'Jerusalem? The Holy Land?'

God huffed before getting to Her feet and going to the window, picking up a small potted plant from the sill before returning to the table. She set it down in front of Her before She pushed it towards Crowley. Aziraphale pressed a hand to the demon's back as he flinched back in his chair, stroking gently as God pointed to the plant and then back to him. 

'A plant and Crowley?' said Beelzebub, 'What sort of a place does that mean?'

'Not Crowley,' said Lucifer, 'And not plant but plants. Raphael's plants. Raphael's garden.'

'Eden,' breathed Crowley, 'You want to go to Eden?'

God nodded with a smile.

'But it's sealed,' said Aziraphale, 'When You sent us out into the world it was sealed.'

'A seal that only God can break,' said Michael, 'But to get there by mortal means would take weeks and without a miracle even finding it will be difficult at best.'

'Between us we'll manage,' said Aziraphale, 'But it will take weeks and we can't drive that thing out there through the desert if it even holds together as far as Africa.'

'Gabriel will figure this out long before we make it halfway, even without miracles he'll be able to track us down in the end,' said Lucifer, 'And we aren't much of a defence. We don't even have weapons. Holy power against hell fire will cancel each other out at best. If Adam hadn't ended Armageddon before it began we would have face a war of attrition, a gradual wearing down until someone got lucky. Even if I pulled every demon out of Hell, it wouldn't be enough to make a decisive victory.'

'Then we get weapons that they won't expect,' said Michael.

Crowley frowned, 'What sort of weapons?' he said, 'A gun might slow an angel down, discorporate them if you get a decent hit but we aren't going to defeat an army of angels with mortal weapons.'

Michael smiled, 'Then you haven't seen inside the vaults of the Vatican,' she said, 'Mortal weapons with holy power. As dangerous to angel as they are demon.'

'Face angels with relics?' said Aziraphale, 'Could that work?'

'I've seen it done,' she said, 'Low level angels facing would-be saints that Hell got to as well. It's not pretty but it's necessary.'

Aziraphale paled, 'I don't know if I could kill an angel.'

'You could if he was going to kill you,' said Crowley, 'It's worth a punt at least though. We could be in Italy in two days on the road. Drive from here to Hull, take the ferry to Rotterdam then drive through the Netherlands, Germany, Switzerland and then Italy.'

'They'd check passports at the port,' said Aziraphale, 'Even we don't have those. Can we risk a miracle for them?'

'Leave the ports to us,' said Lucifer, turning to face Beelzebub, 'Get someone on each port, throw Heaven off if they're looking and make it so they don't notice us boarding. Spread just enough influence that we can slip passed the humans without question. Then ahead to Rome, find as somewhere as close to the Vatican as we can get without touching holy ground. Check on my son as well. We'll meet you in Rome in two days, the gates of the Colosseum. Take a handful of our best with you and spread some trouble whilst you're there, keep Heaven confused.' 

She nodded, getting to her feet and offering him a bow. 'It will be done,' she said, before she turned to God, the genuflection she offered Her not as deep as to her master but it was there all the same, 'I will see you all in Rome.'

Aziraphale risked a look at his husband as the Prince of Hell left the room, the sound of the front door echoing in their silence. The demon turned to face him, a frown marring his brow but the anger was not as acute as it had been. His attention quickly diverted to the phone he pulled from his pocket. 

'Best we get ready to head out,' said the angel, 'This plan will be a moot point if Heaven falls on us here.' 

'We leave in half an hour. A ferry leaves for Rotterdam in four, we should make it in plenty of time,' said Crowley, pocketing his phone as he got to his feet, 'I'm going to pack.'

Aziraphale was glad for the warm hand that came to rest on his shoulder before the demon left the room, the touch reassuring him without words that the demon was not running away again but that action was preferable to remaining with the company they kept. 

'Half an hour it is then,' said Lucifer, forcing a smile, 'He's getting a little too used to giving me orders.'

God smiled at his words, Her gestures soon spelling out Her thoughts about how headstrong the absent demon was. Aziraphale couldn't help but notice the fondness in Her face as She did but it was tinged with melancholy, a loss that hung over Her so completely but he knew it would take a long time for Crowley to see it to. The longing that existed in him by nature to help everyone to heal warred with the anger at what Crowley had suffered at Her hands and he quietly left the table as Michael and Lucifer began to discuss further plans of how they could access the Vatican for the weapons they required. 

He felt eyes on him and looked back to find God watching him, a small nod of Her head followed by a sad smile making him feel as though She could read the conflicting thoughts in his head. His fingers went unbidden to his wedding ring, twisting it around his finger but the action drew Her eyes to it and he tensed, waiting for the anger to follow the reminder that, despite Her efforts, their love had only been delayed rather than derailed. Instead Her smile grew a little brighter, a wave of Her hand dismissing him gently.

He left the room, climbing the stairs to the bedrooms above. He stilled for a moment as he reached the half open door of the bedroom he and Crowley had shared, a voice coming from within but the inflection was one he had not heard for many years. He had enjoyed the accent and the softer tones that Crowley had employed as Nanny Ashtoreth, the sound of the voice reminding him of days in the gardens of the Dowling estate and of late night meetings where she had not felt the need to change despite not being in Warlock's presence. 

'I will miss you too, dear.'

Aziraphale turned to leave as he heard the words, knowing exactly who was on the other end of the line but the sound of Crowley's footsteps stopped him. The door opening a little more as a hand slipped into his and drew him inside. He followed Crowley back to the bed, sitting beside him and keeping hold of his hand as the conversation continued.

'You're going to be just fine. America will be an adventure, just like always. Don't be afraid.'

The angel tightened his grip as he heard the catch in Crowley's voice, the demon taking a shuddering breath as he listened to whatever was being said to him.

'I'll always be here, Warlock, for as long as I can be. I'll always be here for you, my boy. Now come along, before you make Nanny cry. You're going to be fine.'

Aziraphale dropped his hand in favour of wrapping an arm around his shoulders, coaxing his head to his shoulder as tears streaked silently down the demon's cheeks.

'I will. I love you too. Goodbye, my dear one.'

'It's alright,' said Aziraphale as Crowley ended the call, a picture of Warlock at no more than five gracing the screen for a moment before it went dark, 'Oh darling, it'll be alright.'

Crowley shuddered but any further tears that threatened were quickly forced away, 'I had to say goodbye,' he said, 'Every chance it'll be me that leaves, though a little more permanently perhaps. This mission of ours is suicide, angel. We're not making Eden. If we make the Vatican, we'll be lucky.'

'As much could have been said for us averting Armageddon,' said Aziraphale, 'And we had far less of a plan then.'

'We also had Adam,' said Crowley, 'Who had more sense than all of us put together.'

'Point taken,' said Aziraphale, pressing a kiss to his hair, 'Still, worth a try and I don't know about you but I'm going out fighting. We'd planned to go on holiday, why not start with Rotterdam and see where we get from there.'

Crowley huffed a laugh, 'Didn't plan to take the chaperones with us though,' he said, 'What are we doing, angel?'

'God only knows,' said Aziraphale, 'At least I wish She did.'

'That would make things easier,' said Crowley, 'I think we'll make the most of the journey ahead and get Lucifer and Michael to teach Her how to play charades properly. She's rubbish at it right now.'

'I can't believe you said that,' laughed Aziraphale, glad when the demon joined him. The sound was a million miles from the carefree laugh the angel had grown used to in recent years but the echo of it remained and he hoped it would continue to do so even as the path before them grew darker.


	14. When In Rome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey to Rome is not an easy one but when they arrive Aziraphale finds himself alone with God.

They were somewhere in the middle of Germany when Aziraphale had persuaded Crowley from behind the wheel of the van and into the back to rest. Lucifer had taken over the duty of pointing them in the right direction whilst Michael wrestled with the map beside him, making sure the way he was pointing them was the correct one. Crowley had initially refused to rest, his eyes fixed on God as She sat on the floor beside the old cabinets, leafing through a book She had scrounged from inside it depicting the bird species of the British Isles, but when it seemed that She would not be paying them any attention, he finally relented. 

Aziraphale soon found himself a pillow as he stretched out as best he could on the thin couch with Crowley sprawled on top of him, the demon sleeping peacefully in his arms. Aziraphale had one arm wrapped around the slim shoulders whilst the other cradled his head against his shoulder, the position the same defensive one he had taken in the bedroom despite God's disinterest. The soft russet strands of hair moved like silk through his fingers, soothing him as much as he knew it comforted Crowley and he felt his eyes growing heavy despite already having claimed several hours sleep back at the cottage. He allowed himself to slip into a doze, enjoying Crowley's warm weight against him and the gentle movement of the van beneath them. 

It was the sense of unease that made him stir, eyes remaining closed as he hushed the demon against him on instinct, used to the dreams that plagued him and the gestures that often calmed him, reminding him that he no longer slept alone. His fingers began their path through his hair once more but froze as he bumped against another hand. His eyes flew open, falling upon the pale hand that was stroking his husband's hair before they moved to God. The instinct to protect Crowley acted before he could consider his actions, his hand closing around Her wrist and pulling Her hand away.

'No,' he said, firmly.

Whether it was his grip or the tone of his voice that frightened Her, he wasn't sure but he saw the fear on Her face all the same before a sharp jolt shot up his arm. He couldn't bite back the yelp of pain, the sound waking Crowley fully. The demon pushed up to sitting, taking hold of Aziraphale's hand where a faint burn was already blooming. 

'She hurt you,' he hissed, before he turned on God even as She backed away, 'You hurt him. How dare You hurt him!'

'Crowley, it's alright,' said Aziraphale, keeping a tight hold on his hand, 'It was an accident. I don't think She meant to. I startled Her.'

'What's going on back there?' said Michael, clambering from the passenger seat and into the back. 

'Someone is struggling to remember that She should be keeping Her hands to Herself,' snapped Crowley, 'Slinking around when people are sleeping. What did She do to you, Aziraphale?'

The angel frowned, knowing his answer would not please him but not wanting to conceal anything, 'It was more what I did to Her. I woke up and She was stroking your hair,' he said, covering Crowley's hand with his free one as he paled at the words, 'I took Her hand away but I panicked so I was a little rough and I shouted. I frightened Her.'

'She's lucky it was you that woke first,' growled Crowley, 'Keep away from him and me or next time it won't be an angel giving you a fright. You have no right to touch either of us.'

Michael took hold of God's arm as She stood a little taller, eyes flashing as though She wished to argue with them but the words were still not forthcoming. Aziraphale cursed that his grip wasn't tighter on Crowley's hand as the demon got to his feet, standing almost toe to toe with the entity that had created him. 

'You have no right to me or to him, do You understand?' said Crowley, 'You abandoned us both. You created him to abuse him, I only changed the way You got to do it by keeping him out of Your path when I escaped You. I don't care if You regret or repent, though I doubt You even know the meaning of the words. I don't care if You think You can redeem Yourself by refusing to condemn our marriage because You have absolutely no part in it. You could fall on Your knees and beg for forgiveness and it would change nothing. I am not doing any of this for You, I am doing it for the humans we've sworn to protect.'

'Alright, you've made your point,' snapped Michael, 'Aziraphale, keep him under control.'

'I'm his husband, not his keeper,' said the angel.

'What's going on back there?' said Lucifer from the driver's seat.

'Nothing that concerns you,' said Michael.

'You're all shouting at each other again,' said Lucifer, 'Of course it concerns me. Especially when I'm trying to keep us on the road. Raphael...'

'Stop calling me that!' Crowley cried, 'I am not Raphael. Raphael is dead and She bloody murdered him. My name is Crowley. Anthony J Crowley-Fell if you want it in full so bloody well use it or I'll spend the rest of this idiotic mission calling you Old Scratch.'

'You might want to remember who you're talking to.'

'Don't you get bored of using that line,' said Michael, 'Right now you're the chauffeur.'

'And right now, you're the wingless wonder.'

'Can we please remember that we're all over six thousand years old and therefore should be behaving better than this,' said Aziraphale, 'I'm tired of people shouting at each other.'

'Your husband's the one who started it.'

'I'm nowhere near the start of this.'

'Oh stop playing the victim, demon.'

'Well I suppose you angels don't really look twice at Her victims do you,' snapped Crowley, 'Children die in Her flood, of Her plagues but Heaven doesn't care. Even Her own children are abandoned, thrown down, tortured, even crucified.'

'You dare compare yourself to Christ!' cried Michael, 'You're fallen.'

'Both of you stop it, just stop it. Please, just...'

Aziraphale's plea was cut off by a scream, God falling to Her knees as she cried out in frustration, hands fisting into Her hair. The screams soon turned into bitter sobs, the sound rendering the rest of them silent. The sound was broken and hollow, uncontrolled even as Michael knelt beside Her, rocking Her gently. The van ground to a halt before Lucifer climbed into the back, arms crossing across his chest as he took in the scene.

'What happened?' he said.

'We did,' sniffed Aziraphale, 'We happened.'

'Fuck this,' said Crowley, heading to the front, 'We need to keep moving.'

'Crowley,' said the angel, stopping him before he climbed into the driver's seat, 'Let me. My turn anyway.'

Crowley forced a smile, 'I suppose this thing can't go that fast at the best of times,' he said, slipping into the passenger seat, looking back over into the rear as Aziraphale climbed into the driver's seat.

'You and Lucifer have such long legs,' grumbled the angel as he adjusted the seat before he paused with his hands on the wheel, 'Are you alright?'

Crowley turned away from the quiet scene in the back, fixing his eyes on the road ahead, 'Let's go, angel. Long way to Rome.'

Aziraphale navigated them back onto the road, the van groaning but responding all the same as it joined the light traffic. He was glad for it, allowing his gaze to move across to his husband every few minutes, watching the pensive expression on his face. It was only when he saw the tear Crowley wasn't quick enough to catch appear on his cheek that he reached over a hand to take his.

'Crowley?'

'I shouldn't have said that,' said the demon, his voice low so only the angel could hear, 'That was a low blow even for me. Michael's right, I have no right to compare my suffering to his.'

'Jesus' life was different from yours,' said Aziraphale, 'But I can see the point you were trying to make. Still, he shouldn't be used as a weapon Crowley. We both saw how he suffered but we don't know everything about back then. I never questioned and you couldn't ask and now She can't answer. This whole situation is awful, everyone hurting each other.'

'I didn't mean to make Her cry,' said Crowley, 'I just want Her to leave me alone.'

'I know,' said Aziraphale, with a sigh, 'Perhaps if you talked, as best you can with the way things are with Her at the moment. Actually sat down and talked. I know you're hurting but I think She is too. Earlier, when I woke up, it was like She just wanted to be close to you. Regret doesn't change the past, my love, but maybe going forward you could find a way to work together. Goodness knows without a few second chances we wouldn't be where we are now. I'm not asking you to forgive Her, I'm not asking you to trust Her but talk to Her, it may at least ease this panic that takes you every time She's close. Think about it, will you?'

Crowley nodded, 'But no promises.'

'I don't ask for any,' said Aziraphale tightening his grip on his hand, 'Save one. Trust this, trust us. You asked me back at the cottage who I would choose. I chose my side four years ago Crowley. It will always be us over everyone. It will always be us. You.'

'You deserve better. I should be better,' said Crowley, 'If we get through this...'

'What?' said Aziraphale with a small smile, 'If we get through this I want to go back to exactly how we were, thank you very much. I married all of you Anthony J Crowley-Fell and don't think that it doesn't make my heart sing to have your name entwined with mine like that, even if they are ones we gave ourselves. Makes it all the more special.'

Crowley raised the angel's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it, 'Just drive the smelly van,' he said, 'It's barely holding itself together and I am not walking across Switzerland.'

Aziraphale shuddered, 'A little too close to a certain musical for my liking and with present company included,' he said, smiling as he heard the small laugh from the demon beside him, 'We'll get to Rome even if I have to make Lucifer get out and push.'

Crowley waved his fingers, 'Takes one little demonic miracle to flood the engine if you want to see that happen.'

Aziraphale smirked, 'Don't tempt me, love.'

'Part of the job description,' said Crowley, leaning back in the seat but keeping hold of his hand, fingers tracing a soothing pattern over the digits, the touch soothing to the both of them as they continued along the road.

xxxx

The footpaths around the Colosseum were heaving with tourists juggling maps and phones and speaking appalling Italian that the locals smiled at behind their hands. Aziraphale and Michael were taking turns in herding God away from the humans that had caught Her interest, following them as though intent on studying up close the creations She had been so distant from for years. They were a quarter of a way around the circumference of the great amphitheatre when they spotted Beelzebub sitting on one of the guard rails, suit replaced by jeans and a jacket that helped her fit in with the tourists. She jumped down from her perch as she saw them, a small gesture pulling their attention to another figure Crowley recognised as one of the lesser demons that were often forced to trail their superiors.

'My Lord,' she said, with a bow to Lucifer as they approached, 'I remember this place being a lot more entertaining when Trajan was in charge. Hastur is still sore over how much he lost betting against my favourites. Did you make it all the way in that bucket you left England in?'

'Just,' said Lucifer, 'Though if someone chose to steal it from the car park, none of us would complain. Did you make all the necessary arrangements?'

'Of course,' said Beelzebub, 'Though your accommodation is closer to here than to the Vatican. I thought it might be best to distance yourselves for when Michael and Aziraphale make their attempt.'

'For which we still have to plan,' said Michael, her hand keeping a tight hold on God's sleeve. 

Beelzebub smirked, 'I have a plan in place,' she said, 'Not here though. Follow me.'

They followed the demon prince away from the bustling Colosseum and along the Via dei Fori Imperiali, ten minutes all it taking for them to reach a hotel that was fairly plain outside, its only boast seemingly the view over the ruins outside. Beelzebub passed the concierge who didn't even look up as she passed with a group of five people but there was no demonic miracle at work, whatever was occurring had either been acted upon before their arrival or by more mortal means. 

She led them to the top of the stairs, pulling a key card out of her pocket. 'A three bedroom suite,' she said, 'With living room and a balcony. Enough space for all of you. You have three nights here, enough time for the angels to pull off a robbery which I will be staying to see.'

Michael bristled, 'You say it as though you expect us to fail.'

'Or that I am intrigued to see angels steal,' said Beelzebub, 'Thievery in a church.'

'Behave Beelzebub,' said Lucifer, 'Let's get inside and then you can tell us this plan of yours.'

She led them through the nearest door, the suite spreading out before them with views over the ruins.

'You demons do like your luxury,' said Aziraphale as he followed Crowley into the room.

'Says he,' said the demon, 'I remember when a certain someone insisted on nothing less than five star when we were in Venice.'

'Well it was our honeymoon, love,' said Aziraphale, 'And it was a beautiful hotel.'

Crowley grinned as he leaned close to whisper in his ear, 'Wasn't looking at the hotel.'

'Behave,' said the angel as Beelzebub came to a stop next to the large wardrobe in the main bedroom of the suite.

'Only the angels can go into Vatican,' said Beelzebub, 'Made a test earlier, outcome wasn't pretty, two lesser demons no longer in possession of their feet.'

'Sticky,' hissed Crowley with a grimace, 'A bit sharper than normal consecrated ground then.'

'Just a little,' said Beelzebub, 'Though you may be alright considering you're immune to holy water.'

Lucifer coughed, 'Perhaps we'd best not test that too far,' he said, 'We want to get in and out without any drama but that in itself is an issue.'

'Try walking in as a tourist and you won't get far but there is a little more freedom for others,' said Beelzebub opening the door to reveal two sets of robes, 'A cardinal and a nun would pass by almost unseen.'

Crowley laughed, 'Oh please tell me Aziraphale gets to be the nun,' he said, earning himself a clip around the back of the head from his husband, 'What? You'd look lovely in grey. Red on the other hand does nothing for you, love.'

'Even dressed up getting to the vaults is almost impossible,' said Aziraphale, 'And I think miracles in the middle of the Vatican will definitely catch Gabriel's attention.'

Beelzebub pulled a folded sheet of paper and another key card from her pocket, 'The church will never learn that starving their employees of physical contact never ends well,' she said, 'Took one of my third rate tempters less than twenty minutes to have one of the Swiss guards spilling codes along with various bodily fluids.'

'Ugh, enough!' said Michael.

Aziraphale buried his face in his hands, 'I am a angel, breaking into a church, dressed as a Cardinal with codes that were shagged out of the Swiss guard,' he said, 'What's that delightful phrase you like use, dear?'

'Go hard or go home,' said Crowley.

'Indeed,' said the angel, 'Greater good and all that though.'

Beelzebub buzzed out a faint laugh, 'I'm beginning to see why you like him,' she said, 'You've got two days from tomorrow to pull it off. On the third day you need to be in Civitavecchia, there will be a ship there to take you on to Alexandria. If the weather stays on your side you'll be in Egypt in two days.'

'You organised this all in less than forty-eight hours?' said Aziraphale, 'I must say I'm impressed.'

Beelzebub gave him a small nod, 'I would suggest you take tomorrow to scout out the Vatican. I have plans of both the public and the private areas, plus the vaults. Tickets are arranged for tomorrow if you wish to scout it out as tourists and then make the attempt the day after.'

Michael frowned, 'I don't know if I want to delay.'

'You only get one shot at this though,' said Crowley, 'Better to take the time to prepare.'

God nodded, tapping Michael's hand and pointing to Crowley.

'I suppose if I am out voted then,' said the Archangel, 'Aziraphale, do you agree?'

'Yes I think so,' he said, 'Better to get an idea of where we're going. It won't do to be wandering around looking lost when it comes to it.'

'Then it's settled,' said Lucifer, 'You've done well Beelzebub. Hopefully we can see the rest through.'

'We will raise some trouble the other side of the city when the attempt is made,' said the demon prince, 'We will draw Heaven's gaze from you.'

'Arrange it so that you remain with us,' said Lucifer, 'With the angels otherwise occupied we will need as many hands as we can to defend God in case they come for us.'

'Give me a few hours to change plans and then I will return.'

Lucifer nodded, 'I shall accompany you,' he said, 'I have things to communicate to those in Hell and would do so with more ears to hear me. You will all excuse me.'

Michael caught his sleeve as he moved passed her, 'You're leaving us?'

'Briefly,' he said, glancing down at the hand on his sleeve, fingers twitching before he carried on his path, 'We will return later.'

Aziraphale watched the two demons leave before looking up at Crowley, seeing a reflection on his face of the question he wanted to ask. The thought was dismissed though as Michael seemed to recover herself before ushering them further into the rooms, issuing instructions on how they would divide the living space. Once the decisions were agreed upon, they situated themselves in the main living room, looking over the plans of the Vatican to try and find the simplest path for them to take. 

Aziraphale was glad at least that Crowley seemed not quite as skittish as God sat in close proximity to them as they worked. Though they didn't communicate, there seemed to be an easy peace settling over the group. It only soured as Lucifer and Beelzebub remained absent, Michael growing agitated that they had abandoned them. Crowley tried to reassure her that the Lord of Hell and his prince were more likely arranging more trouble to give them as much cover as possible but Michael remained uneasy until night had well and truly fallen over the city. 

The bedroom Crowley and Aziraphale had chosen afforded them a view of the ruins but the angel was more occupied with the plans he had spread out on the dressing table, going over the path he and Michael were to follow even though they both knew it by heart. He only looked up as he heard the door to the adjoining bathroom open, smiling as Crowley emerged wrapped in the fluffy white bathrobe he had found in the closet and towelling dry his long red hair.

'Feel better?' he asked.

Crowley nodded, 'Though I really wish we'd brought more clothes,' he said, 'I might have to go shopping tomorrow when you and Michael are on your little spying mission.'

'I'm sure the hotel will launder your clothes for you,' said Aziraphale, 'And I'd rather know where you are tomorrow. I'm going to be anxious enough not being with you.'

The demon smiled, hanging his towel over the back of a chair before wrapping his arms around Aziraphale's shoulders, 'Stop worrying about this,' he said, 'You've marched into Hell, angel, you can manage the Vatican. You should have joined me in there, tub was big enough for two and it might have helped you relax a little.'

Aziraphale patted his arm, 'I'm sorry, love,' he said, 'I just want to make sure I have this right in my head.'

'You could follow that path in your sleep by now,' said Crowley.

'What if we get caught? You won't be able to help. We'll be alone in there.'

Crowley pressed a kiss to his temple, 'Angel, if you think consecrated ground, even consecrated ground in the church of St Peter, is going to stop me from reaching you if you need me then you need to think again,' he said, 'You're going to be fine and if something happens, I'll be there.'

'Darling Crowley, I've no doubt you'd come for me but it doesn't make me less afraid.'

Crowley sighed, 'Then at least come to bed, get some rest,' he said, 'Things will look better in the morning.'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'I'll be too restless,' he said, 'You get some sleep though if you want to.'

'I'll sit up with you,' said Crowley, cursing softly as a yawn escaped him, 'Sorry.'

'Don't be,' said Aziraphale, 'I've seen you after a warm bath one too many times. Rest. I'll be fine here and there's an Italian phrase book in the other room I intend to flick through, get my grammar back up to speed for tomorrow. Go on to bed.'

Crowley yawned widely before kissing his cheek, 'Wake me if anything changes,' he said, 'Lucifer and Beelzebub look as though they'll be out until dawn.'

'Much to Michael's upset,' said Aziraphale, 'She seemed most put out, it was all rather odd.'

'She expects everyone to behave properly,' said Crowley, 'And demons are hardly ever proper, especially in Rome. Since it's beginning this place has always been a favourite for Hell. Wine, heat, jilted lovers and religious fervour. They're as likely to believe in a demon here as they do an angel and it makes temptations far easier. Lucifer and Beelzebub are demons, they're probably just stretching their legs so to speak.'

'Well so long as it doesn't bring trouble down on us,' said Aziraphale, turning just enough to kiss him, 'Now off to bed with you. I'll go the other room so you can turn the lights down.'

Crowley released his hold on his shoulders as the angel got to his feet and collected up the plans, 'Climb in with me if you change your mind,' he said, heading towards the bed, 'And don't spend the whole night worrying, you'll be grumpy in the morning if you do.'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'I'm always grumpy before breakfast,' he said, walking to the door and turning down the lights as Crowley shook off his robe and pulled the black silk pyjama pants up over his slim hips before slipping beneath the covers, 'Goodnight, my love.'

'G'night, angel,' he said, wrapping his arms around one of the pillows and burying his face in it.

The angel watched him for a moment before he stepped into the living room, pausing as he found it in darkness, Michael and God clearly having retired though he wasn't sure if the latter required sleep. Michael however had been fighting it for several hours and he was not surprised if she had succumbed to it. He flicked on a reading lamp beside the sofa, settling himself down with both the plans and the phrase book he had promised himself he would review. Neither held his attention for long though, his mind wandering over too many what ifs for the days that lay before them. 

A cool breeze came in from the open balcony door they had deliberately left open in case Lucifer and Beelzebub needed to return without attracting the attention of the humans in the hotel. The fragrant night air called to him and he left the plans to step out into the night. He had almost reached the railing when he felt eyes upon him, turning to see God seated in one of the chairs half hidden in shadow.

'Goodness me, You gave me a fright,' he said, looking around him before his eyes settled on her once more, 'Michael not with You?'

She shook Her head, before bringing Her hands to Her cheek in an expression of sleep.

'Oh, thought as much, she was tired,' he said, 'Well, only stepped out for a breath of air and I don't want to disturb You. I'll head back in.'

She pushed another chair out from the table with Her foot, the invitation clear but Aziraphale hesitated. Since they had found Her he had not found himself alone with his Creator, always at least one other person with them and he felt the need to hurry back to Crowley's side rise within him but She had other plans as She nodded more pointedly to the chair.

'Well, if you insist,' he said, with an attempt at a smile as he sat, 'It's a rather lovely night.'

He watched the exaggerated roll of Her eyes before he nodded.

'Right, not small talk then,' he said, worrying his hands in his lap, 'I'm not really sure how this should go if I am honest with You. Rather one sided regardless of what we discuss and I have a tendency to witter on at the best of times. Or do You just want some company? I'm happy just to sit here if that's what You need. I'm sorry if I'm not very good at interpreting what You need, I just...'

A cool hand covering his halted his speech and derailed his train of thought as he raised his eyes to meet Hers. Her expression at least appeared amused as She motioned for him to calm down. 

'Sorry,' he said again, 'What...oh...I suppose it's foolish to ask You to begin.'

She cocked an eyebrow and he felt a small smile come to his lips at the expression. 

'Foolish indeed,' he said, steadying his hands as She drew Hers away, 'What does one say to God? Our conversations, well the ones I can remember, were only ever brief but I understand now that was maybe because You were rather angry with me.'

She nodded, Her eyes on Her fingers as She traced a small pattern against Her knee.

'Right. Are... are You still angry with me, Lord?'

She raised Her head once more, wearing the familiar sad smile he had seen on Her face more than once. She shook Her head and Aziraphale felt his breath leave him in a rush before a question came to his lips that he forced himself to ask despite the lingering fear.

'And Crowley? Are You still angry with him?'

The sad smile broke into genuine sadness and She shook Her head more vigorously. 

'I had thought as much,' said the angel, 'I hope I don't speak too much out of turn but it seems to me that You regret at least some of what happened back then? I've heard his story of what passed between you both but I can't hear Yours so I can't ask what parts You regret. I don't know if You regret making him the Prince, or punishing him, or that he fell. I'm almost frightened to know but not nearly as frightened as he is.'

He watched as a solitary tear broke from Her eye and coursed down Her cheek, leaving a glittering trail in the lamplight. He fumbled in his pocket for a handkerchief and handed it to Her, glad when She accepted it. 

'I think You still love him a great deal,' he said, feeling slightly bolder when She offered no contradiction, 'And if You do love him, then I must ask something of You. Perhaps I have no right, I am not much in the scheme of things, but in this I must be his champion. If You love him still then be gentle with him, be kind, and keep Your distance until he is ready to hear what You want to say, even if it is without words. He is in pain and when he is hurting he does lash out. You hurt him a great deal and he has dealt with that, carried it forever, even before he knew it all. He needs time and also assurances that the fate You once designed for him won't return. Believe me when I say, he is amazing enough just as he is and if You get to know him then You'll see it too but it will take time and You see now I'm wittering again because I'm so scared. I'm so scared because I don't know what You intend and I... I can't lose him, he's everything to me You see. My whole world is concentrated in him and I'm scared because You took him away once and though I can't remember it, I can imagine what it would have felt like. I love him too, so very much and I'm very, very scared of You and what that means for us.'

He pressed a hand to his mouth in an effort to stop the words but realised his error as it brought his wedding ring into view. She extended a finger, tracing the band as Aziraphale froze. She took Her hand away a moment later, pressing it to Her chest, right over Her heart before She offered it, palm up to him. 

'I'm a little wary of how to interpret,' said Aziraphale, cursing the tremble in his voice, 'But does this... do You give us Your... do You accept us, Lord?'

She nodded, getting to Her feet and bending down to press a kiss to the crown of his head. Aziraphale couldn't help the sob that escaped him, catching Her hand between both of his and pressing his forehead to them.

'Thank You,' he said, 'Thank You. I can't even...'

He felt the slight pull on his hands and lifted his head, standing as She raised them up a little higher. He followed as She led him back to the door and into the living room. She let go as they reached the sofa but did not sit, instead She motioned to the door to their bedroom that still stood ajar.

'Go to him?' asked Aziraphale, 'Can I?'

She nodded with a smile, pushing a hand against his shoulder when he didn't move and he finally followed Her unspoken command, heading to the darkened room. He looked back as he reached the threshold, seeing Her sit down on the sofa and She offered him the small sad smile once more. She looked small, lonely in the expanse of the room and he felt guilty in leaving Her but She waved him off and he turned from the room, stepping into the darkness of the bedroom. 

The light from the window was just bright enough to make out the figure on the bed, Crowley looking far more peaceful in sleep than he ever could awake. Aziraphale made short work of his clothes, stripping down to his underwear but not bothering with the pyjamas that still waited in his bag. Slipping beneath the covers, he pressed himself against his husband's back, wrapping an arm around his slim waist as he felt him stir.

'Angel?' came the sleepy murmur, 'Everything ok?'

He smiled as he felt Crowley's breathing even out, the demon asleep even before he could answer him but he did all the same.

'Yes, my darling. I think everything is going to be fine.'


	15. Vatican

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angels make their attempt on the Vatican and Aziraphale comes across something that stirs a long dormant memory whilst in Rome, Crowley makes an attempt to find peace with God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. Now I'll fess up, I have been to Vatican city and Rome once and that was on a guided trip so I am going for very brief memories and google here. That being said, I've taken some significant liberties with Angelica Cafe and the vaults of the Vatican as I don't have a clue what they're like but I hope you enjoy the story all the same. Also just to say that updates may suffer a few delays in coming weeks as I'm moving house so writing time is being taken up by packing (not an easy task especially when my five year old wants to help!). Please bear with me and I'll be back with you when I can be. xx

'Aziraphale, are you alright in there?' said Crowley, biting his lip against the laugh that wanted to escape him, 'Or are you already taking confession, Your Grace.'

'Oh shut your face,' came the grumpy response from behind the door, 'I think I maybe should go as the nun.'

'He'll get no arguments from me,' groused Michael from the sofa, itching beneath the tight grey veil that covered her hair until God knocked her fingers away and straightened it once more. 

'Come on, it can't be that bad,' said Crowley.

'Oh I assure you it is.'

Lucifer groaned, leaning back against the wall, 'Does it really matter?' he said, 'All that we are concerned with is getting you inside. You aren't looking for a mate so what does it matter what you look like?'

'Why not let me in?' coaxed Crowley, 'I'm sure it's not as bad as all that and we need to get a move on.'

Aziraphale sighed the other side of the bedroom door, 'Alright, I'm coming,' he said, 'But please promise me that none of you will laugh.'

Crowley schooled his expression as best he could as the door opened, feigning a cough before he was forced to bite down on his own finger. Aziraphale blushed as crimson as the robes he wore, the layers of red and lace doing nothing for his frame or stature. It was only Crowley's reflexes that stopped him from running back into the bedroom, the demon catching the voluminous sleeve and holding him in the doorway. 

Lucifer already had a hand over Beelzebub's mouth, the demon prince shaking in his grip as her master maintained a neutral expression that only wobbled slightly whenever his eyes drifted back to the angel and the robes he wore. Michael had pulled her veil across her face, masking her expression but God had no such luxury, nor did She possess the restraint as She shrieked with laughter and promptly tumbled off the chair She was sitting on.

Aziraphale took hold of the lace collar of his robe, pulling it over his face, as Michael helped God back into Her chair, 'I'm not going like this. Can't I just be a priest?'

'Priests...' began Lucifer, his voice coming out a little too high before he coughed it back to its normal, smooth timbre, 'Priests cannot move around the Vatican unchallenged. The disguise is necessary.'

Aziraphale lowered the collar, his face miserable as he looked up at Crowley, 'Do I look ridiculous?'

'Let's just say a career in the church is not for you,' said the demon, 'Besides, the celibacy would be a real drag. Leave the frocks to me going forward, love.'

Aziraphale managed a small laugh, brushing his hands down his robes as he straightened them, 'Right, well, didn't dress up like a complete idiot for nothing so how about we get this over with,' he said, 'I'd rather like to do this as quickly as possible, these clothes are rather warm.'

'And itchy,' groused Michael, her mood not having improved since the morning before when Beelzebub and Lucifer had finally returned to the hotel a little after breakfast with tales of temptations and triumphs at the far end of the city. She had scolded them for their more lascivious stories, claiming they needed to tame their language in front of God but the deity Herself had merely shrugged with a sign that She already knew they were devilish. The response had annoyed Michael so much that she had silently seethed her way around the Vatican when she and Aziraphale had paid their first visit, scouting out the various points of entry to the vaults, and the latter was relieved when they rejoined God and the demons they had left Her with if only for a reprieve from the archangel's ire. Her mood had not improved for the rest of the day and had continued into the following morning, compounded by the thick, woollen outfit she was now forced to wear.

'Yes, I will certainly agree with itchy,' said Aziraphale, 'Are we all ready?'

Lucifer nodded, 'You'll have an hour once you enter the Vatican,' he said, 'Then my people will start some trouble over the other side of the city, hopefully pull Heaven's gaze. We'll meet you at the Angelica Cafe just outside the border. You'll be the most exposed in St Peter's Square so move quickly but not enough to arouse suspicion. When you're on consecrated ground you're beyond our help.'

Crowley shook his head, 'If you need me, call for me,' he said, 'I'll risk it.'

'We'll be fine,' said Aziraphale.

'Get out as soon as you have what you need,' said Beelzebub, 'The van will be outside the cafe at three o'clock and we need to be in it. Miss it and you'll have to find your own way to the port.'

'It's nice to know you're so concerned for our safety,' muttered Michael.

'Our mission is protecting God and restoring Her to heaven,' said Beelzebub, 'If foot soldiers fall by the wayside...'

'Beelzebub,' warned Lucifer, as Crowley hissed at the term, 'We started this journey together, we will finish it together but we do have to prioritise God and once Heaven is aware something is going on in the city She will be at risk.'

'Agreed,' said Aziraphale, laying a hand on Crowley's arm, 'We'll be there in time.'

'You'd better be,' said the demon, 'I've grown somewhat attached to you over the years.'

'Ugh!' said Michael, 'Must you.'

Crowley scowled, 'You're welcome to leave her behind.'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'Now now, dear,' he said, 'Michael, shall we say ten minutes?'

The archangel nodded, 'Sooner the better.'

'Righto, just a moment then,' said Aziraphale, 'I don't need long.'

The angel took hold of his husband's hand, leading him through the living room and to the balcony, Rome still awakening below them. He raised their joined hands, covering them with his free one.

'Promise me you'll try to speak with Her today, my love,' he said, 'I know it's hard but I truly think it will help. I'm not asking you to forgive what happened but She gave us Her approval. She sent me back to our room, to you, the other night and that must mean something. After today we're really against the clock and I don't want you to lose the chance of making even a little peace.'

Crowley sighed, 'I tried yesterday when you were in the Vatican,' he said, 'But every time I got close... She terrifies me, angel. Those hands, I can't take my eyes off them.'

'I don't think She has the power to harm you that way right now,' said Aziraphale.

'Look at what She did to you in the hospital. She could have killed you.'

'I don't believe that was deliberate, love,' said the angel, 'She needed strength and I was a useful, celestial vessel. Had Michael not been as damaged as she is then I've no doubt she may have well been the one to bear it. God has taken my hand several times since and She's not hurt me.'

'She hurt you in the van,' said Crowley.

'Because I frightened her. Crowley She loves you, even now. Just try for me, love, please.'

'I'll try, so long as you promise to come back to me in one piece. I meant what I said in there, I've grown rather fond of you, even if you do look a right tit in that get up. I was hoping it would conjure up some fantasies but definite nope on that score.'

Aziraphale laughed, 'Well thank goodness for that. I've grown used to your particular brand of blasphemy but that would be a touch too far,' he said before he sighed, 'Oh darling, I feel dreadful that you won't be with us in there. I know I can rely on you to think two steps ahead of anyone else.'

'You'll be fine,' said Crowley, tugging on his hand to pull him closer, 'But just in case, kiss for luck.'

Aziraphale eagerly met the kiss, revelling in the familiarity of the touch. 'You know,' he said as they parted, 'Anyone looking up right now is going to be scandalised to see you kissing a cardinal.'

Crowley grinned, 'Ok so maybe the outfit is kind of kinky.'

Aziraphale laughed, freeing a hand to push against his chest, 'Demon.'

'Guilty as charged, love,' he said, 'Come on, the church of St Peter is calling and you have a robbery to undertake.'

'I still can't quite believe I'm going stealing in a church of all places,' said Aziraphale as they headed, hand in hand, back into the room.

'Have you quite done slobbering all over one another?' said Michael, getting to her feet, 'I do not understand the need for all this physicality. It's got to be demonic influence.'

'What has wound you up?' said Crowley, 'You've been miserable since yesterday and you weren't exactly a party before that.'

'Well the company is somewhat questionable,' said Michael, her gaze flicking from him to Lucifer and Beelzebub.

'The alternative being your pals in heaven I suppose,' said Crowley, 'And I think they sent the message that they don't want you in their gang any more.'

'Alright, that's enough,' said Lucifer, 'Pointless bickering constantly, you're worse than children.'

'Says he,' muttered Crowley, 'Let's just get this over with. The queue will be ridiculous by the time you get to the museum entrance at this rate.'

'I still think God should be with Aziraphale and me,' said Michael, 'You...'

'We will protect Her as was our promise,' said Lucifer, 'She is safer outside of the Holy See. Heaven doesn't need much power to sense Her in there. It may be mortal made but it's a direct link to Heaven.'

'Even so...' began Michael but she trailed off as God left her side to stand closer to Lucifer and Beelzebub, the message clear even without words, 'As You wish, Lord.'

'We should get on,' said Aziraphale before any more could be said on the matter, 'We'll see you when it's done.'

'Good luck,' said Crowley, releasing his hold on the angel's hand, 'And if trouble comes, sod the no miracle rule. You send out for me every way you can and I'll be there.'

'We'll be fine,' said Aziraphale, heading towards the main door, 'Take care of yourselves, all of you. Michael?'

The archangel nodded, brushing her hands over her long grey robes as she got to her feet. God crossed the room to them both, wordlessly taking hold of their hands for a moment before She released them with a smile. 

'Let's hope blessings work just as well when She's not in heaven,' said Lucifer as the two angels left, 'I'm hungry, let's find somewhere to eat. We've a long day to get through.'

Crowley picked up one of the bags they had brought with them from London, pulling it onto his shoulder as Beelzebub did the same with the other. He was glad when Lucifer was the first to the door, offering his arm to God who took it with a small smile. He smirked to himself before he turned to Beelzebub, offering her his arm as Lucifer had done for God.

'Ma'am?'

'Oh you can sod right off,' said Beelzebub, 'Besides, what would your angel say?'

'Good point,' he said, sliding passed her to the door, 'Ladies first then.'

Beelzebub shook her head as he exited ahead of her, 'Probably one of the most accurate things I've heard in the last few days,' she said, pulling to door to the hotel room closed behind her.

xxxx

'I remember when your namesake was painting that,' said Aziraphale, nodding up to the sprawling images on the roof above their heads, 'Nice fellow.'

'Didn't come to see it until much later,' said Michael, keeping hold of his sleeve as they were buffeted by the crowds who all had their faces turned upwards, 'It's pretty though, I suppose. Inaccurate but pretty. Gabriel hates it. He doesn't like the way it depicts humanity as the favourites of God.'

'I'm hardly surprised,' said Aziraphale, taking hold of the sleeve of her robe as he manoeuvred them through the crowd, 'Let's keep on. I think we should be covered enough to try the door in the next gallery down to the vaults. It's been nearly an hour so things will start moving outside soon.'

Michael sniffed, 'If you trust them,' she said, 'I still don't feel right having left you know who with them.'

'I trust them entirely,' said Aziraphale.

'They aren't all the same as Crowley and even he...'

Aziraphale frowned, 'You have no need to doubt him,' he said, 'He is true to our cause and despite everything that has happened between him and you know who, he will not fail us or Her.'

'That does not mean the others are as trustworthy.'

'They've proven themselves so far,' said the angel, 'And if Crowley trusts them, then I will follow his lead.'

Michael frowned as the passed out of the Sistine Chapel and headed towards the door that would take them down to the vaults if they were lucky not to be spotted, 'Sometimes I think you are blinded by your love for him.'

'On the contrary,' said Aziraphale, 'My eyes were opened by him. I did not easily give up on Heaven but it was seeing from him what love could be that made me realise that I deserved more than I was getting but now is not the time to argue the point. You will learn more by experience than you ever could from my words. Keep a look out for me.'

Michael drifted back from him as he moved towards the door they had located on their last trip. The crush of tourists making their way from the famed chapel made it easier to slip unseen behind the decorative curtain that hid it without falling foul of the security cameras. He heard the cough that told him the next wave would soon be passing their way, waiting until he was all but pressed against the wall by the swell of people before he keyed in the stolen codes and slipped behind the door. The few moments he was alone felt like an eternity before Michael appeared through the door, closing it behind them. 

'Well,' she said, 'Now the fun begins. Let's hope Lucifer has done as promised and both the humans and Heaven are looking the other way.'

'Indeed,' said Aziraphale, 'If only to prove that you can trust him.'

'I'll trust him the day we return God to Heaven.'

'Then you will miss out on a great deal of chances to make a friend and that makes me sad for you. He may be fallen but he and Beelzebub are more than the product of an event. You knew them in Heaven even if you don't remember clearly.'

Michael pushed ahead through the corridors, 'If he was as flippant in Heaven as he is now I doubt I would have liked him.'

'Given the choice between his flippancy or Gabriel's cruelty, where would you place yourself?'

Michael stopped dead but didn't turn back to him, her hands clenching and unfurling at her sides before she took a shuddering breath, 'We should be focussing on the mission. We don't have long.'

Aziraphale let her go as she began walking again, seeing the stubborn set of her shoulders and knowing arguing with her would do nothing but antagonise her. Still, he recognised his own old reluctance, the doctrine of Heaven inbred and he was determined that, regardless of how their journey ended, he would help her open her eyes to the truth of the balance of the world.

xxxx

Beelzebub pulled a phone from her pocket, staring down at the screen for a moment before she got to her feet, 'Time to get things moving,' she said, 'Much as they're probably too stupid to realise what I'm talking about, I'll take this away from the mortals.'

'Do not be long,' said Lucifer, 'We need to stay close.'

'We need to look normal,' said Crowley, 'I'll get some more coffee.'

Lucifer shook his head, 'I want to take a turn around the room, clock a few faces,' he said, 'You stay here.'

Crowley wanted to protest, the thought of being left alone with the only other individual at the table not a pleasant one but the two demons were already on their feet and about their respective tasks. He kept his eyes trained on the table in front of him, wishing the cup before him contained something stronger than coffee but, despite his reluctance to look up, he still felt eyes on him. A hand moved into his line of sight but stopped shy of his hands which were clasped so tight that his knuckles were white against the wood of the table. The long, tapered finger tapped gently, trying to attract his attention and he resisted the urge to recoil at the sight, his mind throwing up images of those same hands encircling his head as the halo closed around him. 

The finger withdrew and he felt a little of the tension leave him but the eyes remained on him all the same. He recalled Aziraphale's plea to his mind, the angel wanting him to at least give the entity before him a chance and the withdrawal of Her hands hinted at Her willingness to give him the space he desired. With a strength he had not called on since the threat of Armageddon he raised his head meeting the piercing gaze before him. He was glad for his sunglasses, hoping they at least hid the terror in his eyes even though he was sure it was written all over his face. 

She smiled softly, Her hands set on the tabletop, the gesture deliberate and Crowley let his grip loosen enough to restore circulation to his fingers before he spoke.

'Aziraphale told me You spoke to him,' he began, hating the catch in his voice, 'Well insofar as You can and I hope his interpretation is correct. I truly hope You have realised his worth and that Your anger should only ever be directed at me for what happened. He says You have given him Your approval of our marriage. I want You to know I never sought that, because I know we're right together even when everyone else stood against us.'

The smile changed but where he had expected it to fade and Her face grow harder, it instead grew bright as She nodded. Her hand moved, sliding a little closer on the table but not rising from the wood or touching his trembling fingers. 

Crowley drew his hands back closer to his chest, shaking his head, 'When Lucifer returned my memories, after I got over the pain of remembering, all I could ask was why,' he said, fingers moving unbidden to his wedding ring and drawing as much strength from what it represented as he could, 'You gave me love and imagination and I used them both. You celebrated my imagination but damned my love. You made him and I loved him and You punished me for it. Punished him. I don't know what I want from You, if there is anything I want at all, but I ask You, over everything else to treat him kindly.'

God nodded, drawing Her hands back to Her own side of the table.

'Thank you,' said Crowley sincerely, 'For his sake, thank you.'

Silence descended once more, punctuated by the comings and goings of the tourists around them, but it was a far more comfortable one than they had sat in before. Crowley allowed himself to watch Her as Her gaze wandered around the room, watching the expressions on Her face as She regarded the humans that had sprung from the two souls She had first created. He realised with a jolt that he had never seen Her watch the young angels in the same way when they had been in Heaven. She had been more guarded, any fondness, if She had felt any, carefully hidden. At least he hoped that it had been hidden rather than not felt. He remembered how endearing he had found the young ones, especially the brothers and sisters Aziraphale had fledged with, so remarkably different to the angels that had come before. He wondered if She had loved them as he had done, if She had even once regretted condemning them to a life in the service of Hell. 

The thought pulled his eyes towards Lucifer who had situated himself by the bar, chatting amiably with the bar man as he fixed their drinks. Had She loved him as Crowley had, the brother he had fledged with. Their had been only the two of them when She made them, that much he could remember through the mists of the time before time. They had been so close, an inseparable pair though She had always planned to separate them, Lucifer bound for Hell and Crowley, or Raphael as he had been to them both then, bound for a place at God's side. 

He could not help but think of what might had been had he not met Aziraphale on the day of his creation. If he had followed Gabriel as he should have done rather than been tempted by Lucifer to gaze upon the young ones. Would he have raised his hand against his brother when Lucifer rebelled? The thought turned his stomach and he shuddered.

'Is everything alright, Raphael?' 

Crowley looked up as Lucifer reappeared at their table but scowled as he realised the name he had yet again been called. 'Absolutely fine, Old Scratch,' he said, seeing the annoyance flit across Lucifer's face.

'Crowley,' he said, 'My apologies. I am trying to get used to it.'

'Everyone else capable of speech manages just fine,' said the demon, 'I am no longer Raphael and I don't want to own that name. Crowley, please, Lucifer.'

God raised a hand to Her mouth, masking a laugh at the exchange but the moment was short lived as She paled, breath coming in short panicked gasps as Her eyes widened in panic. 

'What's the matter with Her?' said Crowley, 'She was fine a moment ago.'

'I don't know,' said Lucifer, capturing hold of Her hand and then Her face as She seemed unable to acknowledge him, 'Lord? My Lord, what is the matter? Are you ill?'

'She's going to hyperventilate if She goes on like that, we don't know what Her physiology is like,' said Crowley, leaving his seat and kneeling at the side of Hers. 

Fear overcame him for a moment before he reached out, closing his hand around Hers. Wild eyes turned to meet his, panic still the soul emotion as Her lips moved in an attempt to form the words She needed.

'Calm down,' he said firmly, 'You can't talk so don't try, you'll hurt Yourself. Take a breath.'

Her grip tightened on his, Her eyes clearing slightly but She shook Her head, pointing to the door before She waved Her hand to encompass the entire room.

'Something's coming here?' said Crowley, 'What?'

She pointed upwards.

'Heaven,' hissed Lucifer, 'They must know we're up to something.'

'How does She know?' said Crowley.

God tapped Her hand to Her chest.

'She feels it,' said Lucifer, closing his eyes, 'And now I try. It's not clear but it's there, lots of them I think. Beelzebub.'

Though the demon prince's name was only softly spoken she returned as though it had been shouted, 'What's the matter?'

'Heaven is coming,' said Lucifer.

'Was that not the intent?' she asked, 'That's why...'

'Not to those you have in the city,' said Lucifer, 'Coming here. We need to get away.'

'But Aziraphale and Michael,' said Crowley, 'They only know to come here. We have no way of contacting them.'

'Then we must trust they are smart enough to meet us where we are headed,' said Lucifer, 'Our duty is to God right now. Move.'

Crowley got to his feet, helping the still breathless God to Hers, all horror at Her touch pushed aside in the greater panic of the forces that could yet descend on them. Lucifer took the lead, heading towards the door but he stumbled back into the room as it was blown inwards with a force that was beyond anything a human could create. 

The humans in the room scattered, screaming, clearly fearing an attack that they often visited on one another when politics or religion became too militant. It did not take Crowley long though to recognise the head of the forces that now assailed them. Even without his memories as Raphael he could recognise the figure of Sandalphon as he led the group of mortal dressed angels though the weapons they brandished were clearly not Earth made. He had encountered the angel several times throughout his long life, witnessing his cruelty whenever he was meting out Heaven's punishments, not least when he had stood at Gabriel's side believing Crowley to be Aziraphale as they sentenced his beloved to death by Hellfire. 

'Get Her out of here.'

Lucifer's words had barely registered when a wall of Hellfire leapt up between them and the approaching angels. Thinking on his feet, Crowley tightened his grip on God's hand before running for the back of the cafe, dragging Her through the kitchens and hoping that he would find a back door that was unguarded by the forces of Heaven. It was a matter of moments until they found themselves in the small back alley, Crowley pressing them close into the wall as they skirted towards the exit. 

He could already hear sirens, see people rushing about at the end of the alleyway as panic began to spread. The demon in him revelled in the chaos but the more pressing need to protect his charge sped him onwards. They broke onto the street, gratefully finding themselves swallowed by a sea of tourists but, as Crowley tried to run one way, God pulled him in the opposite direction. 

'What?' he snapped, pausing only to meet Her eyes.

She beckoned with Her free hand before She began to drag him along against the flow of the rushing figures. 

'We go that way and they'll catch us,' said Crowley, 'We can do nothing for Lucifer and Beelzebub now, they will get themselves out if they can. You need to keep safe.'

She beckoned again, more forcefully, turning them up the road that led to Saint Peter's Square.

'Surely you cannot mean...' began Crowley, 'I can't. I'm a demon. Consecrated ground burns me. I can't go with You and You won't find the others easily in there.'

She stopped at the invisible border that only She and he could sense, the place where the mortal crossed with the divine. She held his hand tightly in both of Hers, Her eyes begging for his trust. He hesitated as She dropped his hand and barely had a moment to react as She grabbed hold of his face in Her hands, dragging him down to press a kiss to his forehead. He recoiled from the touch but he had no time to back away further, Her grip once more tight on his hand as She dragged him over the border. 

He waited for the burn but none came, his feet moving easily over the stones despite the connection to Heaven. He paid no mind to the tourists as together they raced toward the Basilica before them. Even the guards who should have turned their attention to them seemed to ignore them, no one calling out to them to stop or be checked as they ran into the church of St Peter. 

Again he tensed for the pain of the ground at his feet but none came, the holiest of holy ground doing nothing to harm him even as they grew closer and closer to the main papal altar, bedecked with gold and the accoutrements of the faith that preserved them.

xxxx

'At least these horrific robes are good for something,' said Michael, the sword she had retrieved from the open cabinet before her now strapped to her leg with several lengths of rope all but hidden by the fall of her long skirt, mirroring the one on her other leg, 'Where did you learn to tie knots like that?'

'Did a stint in the Navy back in the early nineteen hundreds,' said Aziraphale, closing the cabinet and restoring the locks, the codes they had been given by Beelzebub not yet having failed them, 'Wasn't much good on the water but I learned a few things. Are you sure those things have divine power?'

'Most definitely, blessed them both myself,' said Michael, 'One of the benefits of humans being a war-like race, lots of opportunities for divine intervention and, when the bearer is dead and usually held up as a martyr, they bring it here. Next cabinet is this way.'

Aziraphale followed her lead, nervously glancing at the cameras that seemed to track them all around the modern vaults of the Vatican bank and archive but as yet no one had challenged them though he did not know if it was luck or demonic intervention that made it so. 

'We shouldn't take much longer,' he said, 'We don't need the humans catching us. We'd only get out with a miracle and then Heaven will be on our tails.' 

'We'll only take enough for the five of us though what they'll do against the entire force of angels I don't know,' said Michael.

'It will give us a chance,' said Aziraphale, 'Sometimes that's all you need.'

Michael huffed out a mirthless laugh, 'Do you ever get tired of being so hopeful?'

'Whatever would I gain in doing that?' said Aziraphale, 'There's always hope, even the darkest times. Hope brought you to us, Lucifer and Beelzebub to our aid. Hope and belief got us to God. It gave Crowley the strength to save you. I think hope is a wonderful thing.'

'Hope is only as good as the well blessed steel behind it,' said Michael, stopping before a cabinet with another array of weapons, 'Take the axe, the dagger, the sword and the shield. Then let's get out of here.'

Aziraphale tapped in the code, using the key card to complete the unlocking process, glad when once again the airlock hissed and opened without setting off any alarms.

'I can hide everything but the shield,' he said, quickly retrieving the objects Michael had listed and hanging them from his waist beneath the coarse red robes, 'Even in this it will be obvious.'

'Can we risk it?' said Michael, 'I would prefer to arm God with it if I can.'

'We can risk it but then we risk having to use a miracle to get passed the humans,' said Aziraphale, 'The quickest way out of here and to the others is through the basilica and across the square. A miracle in there and we might as well send for Gabriel directly.'

'Beelzebub said the trouble would distract them.'

'Not that much,' said Aziraphale, 'The weapons are enough. If they get close enough to God and intend to kill Her I don't think a shield will be much use, even if She blessed it Herself.'

Michael sighed, 'Alright,' she said, 'Close that up and let's go.'

Aziraphale closed the cabinet, righting the weapons beneath his robes and cursing the extra weight as he followed Michael to the door that they hoped would take them back outside. Again he clocked the cameras and wondered what was keeping the humans from confronting them, hoping Beelzebub had covered every base when she had set up the raid they were undertaking. A shiver ran through him and he wanted to laugh at his own fear but it would not leave him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end even as they grew closer to freedom. 

He saw the tension in Michael's frame, her body held even more stiffly than it usually was but he knew it had nothing to do with the swords hidden beneath her skirts.

'Do you feel that?' he asked, 'It's like...'

'Heaven,' said Michael bitterly, 'Celestial energy, in the city but it feels too close. I thought Beelzebub said they'd be led away.'

'Perhaps they have come here just in case,' said Aziraphale, looking back to the cameras, 'Or they've known what we've been doing from the start.'

Michael shook her head, 'We'd know by now if they did,' she said, 'They wouldn't have given us a chance to arm ourselves but even so we should get back to God.'

'And the others,' added Aziraphale, 'I want...'

He trailed off as they passed an unlit cabinet, the relics inside old and not as well cared for as they others, nothing to mark them out as being wielded by saints or martyrs. Treasures of the church that they did not value but would not part with all the same. He peered in a little closer, something within it catching a thought in his head that was too fleeting for him to take hold of but it moved him all the same.

'Aziraphale, we have to go,' said Michael, 'This is no time for sightseeing. Aziraphale?'

He ignored her words, eyes lighting upon the gnarled wooden staff, half wrapped in dusty cloth but, within the folds he could make out the faintest glint of gold. Memories warred in his mind, half misty things that told him he recognised the staff but it would not tell him from where. His fingers moved of their own accord, tapping in the code and swiping the card, before the hiss of the airlock opening echoed in the empty room. 

He reached in, fingers curling around the staff, electricity jolting through his grip and for a moment he remembered looking into golden eyes framed with wild, russet curls only tamed by the thin coronet of gold that ran across the wearer's brow. 

'Crowley,' he murmured, before another name bled across his lips, 'Raphael.'

'What?' said Michael, 'Aziraphale what are you muttering about? That thing is neither use nor ornament so leave it and let's go.'

'It's Crowley's,' said Aziraphale, shaking off the misty image, 'Or was, I'm sure of it. Michael, it's Crowley's.'

'It's a piece of wood,' said Michael, laying her hand on it, 'There's nothing there. No power, no memory. It's an old piece of wood.'

'Then they won't miss it,' said Aziraphale, his hand closing tighter around the covering and feeling the hardness of the gold and the staff beneath his fingers, 'I'm taking it.'

'Yet we leave the shield,' snapped Michael, 'Your logic...'

'Michael stop it,' said Aziraphale, glad for the support of the staff and his whole body trembled, 'What the deuce was that?'

'A distress signal,' said Michael, 'God. It felt like God did when... before... Aziraphale we need to get to her.'

Aziraphale nodded, not bothering to close the cabinet as he followed her to the door, the staff held tightly in his hands even as the more useful weapons weighed him down.


	16. United

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God regains some of Her strength as Crowley remembers his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it has taken this long to update, house buying is taking over my life right now! Please as well accept this as a blanket thank you to all the comments I have received. I will try to answer you all as usual in due course. I can't guarantee quicker updates for a while as we still have a lot of legal stuff and packing to do but hopefully life will give me some writing time. I hope you enjoy the update and I will update again when I can. xx

Crowley looked on as God laid her hands upon the altar before Her, the faint aura of power enveloping her as the room around them seemed to respond to Her presence. Whatever She had done was keeping them invisible, their presence unchallenged on the altar where no member of the public was ever permitted to tread, but it did not mask them fully as the most devout in the room fell to their knees in prayer. Despite not knowing how She was doing it, he knew She was drawing power from the belief that surrounded Her, replacing the loss of faith She had been the victim of in Heaven.

He waited for the pain, the scorch of the floor at his feet or the searing heat of the divine power that was surrounding him but it did not touch him, moving around him as though he were a stone in a stream, the power cutting a path around him rather than through him. He had no idea what She was doing with the power She was tapping into but the sweat beaded on Her brow and Her breathing came ragged as She kept Her hands pressed firmly to the altar. The sound of his name being called threw him for a moment, looking to God and then the figures that now knelt on the floor before the altar, before he heard it again and looked further across the great basilica to see Aziraphale and Michael racing towards them. 

Michael was first to them, bypassing Crowley in favour of her mistress, as Aziraphale headed straight for the demon. 

'Are you alright?' said the angel, 'Are you in pain?'

'I'm fine. She did...something. It doesn't hurt,' said Crowley before his eyes were drawn to the wooden staff in his husband's hand, 'What... where did you find that?'

Aziraphale had to look twice at the staff before he registered it, 'Found it in the vaults. It felt important... it felt like a memory of you.'

Crowley lifted a shaking hand, 'It was mine,' he said, 'In Heaven, it...'

'Where are the others?' demanded Michael, 'Lucifer and Beelzebub? Why have you brought God in here? Gabriel will find Her.'

'Gabriel has already found us,' said Crowley, 'He sent forces to attack the cafe. Sandalphon was their leader. Lucifer told me to protect Her and we fled. I wanted to head out of the city but She insisted we come here. She's drawing power from the belief this place has. Just look at the humans. They can feel us but they can't see us.'

The two angels finally took a moment to look around them, the humans that had given themselves over to prayer also surrounded by people who had just stopped, the atmosphere in the room enough to give them pause even though the figures causing it were hidden from them. 

'But how?' said Aziraphale.

'She's God,' said Crowley, 'She's the only one who can explain it.'

They turned their attention back to the woman at the altar, the golden light surrounding Her blinding to mortal eyes if they could see Her and only just tolerable for them. She glowed with it, Her body appearing stronger than it had done from the moment they had found Her. Without warning She pulled Her hands away from the altar, eyes molten gold as She regarded them all. She raised a hand, fingers brushing against Michael's cheek, faintly restoring the golden glamour that the archangel had previously worn in Heaven, but the gentle gesture was short lived as She pressed a hand to Her heart, tears springing to Her eyes.

'Are you hurt?' said Aziraphale, his free hand taking hold of Her arm as She stumbled.

The move brought Her attention to him, Her eyes moving to the staff in his hand and She seized it quickly, pulling it from his grip. She unwrapped the cloth that bound it, revealing the band of gold, Her fingers playing over the subtle carvings on its surface for a moment before She turned to Crowley, holding the staff out to him but keeping the band close to Her chest. He stepped back, catching himself as his foot slipped on the step behind him.

'Crowley,' She said, Her words drifting like music over ears that had not heard Her in millennia, 'Your brother. Go to your brother. He needs you, child.'

He hesitated for only a moment before he reached out and took hold of the staff, a shiver passing through him the moment his fingers met the wood. He looked up at her, meeting the fathomless eyes before him as She nodded Her head slowly, the gesture much more than it appeared though he could not explain the depth of it. He felt the question rise in him but Her words cut him short.

'Go,' She said once more, 'They are failing.'

It was not a command, he realised, but a plea. Even if Lucifer had been able to draw reinforcements to him, the demons would not be as strong as the angels who had taken them all by surprise.

'We need to get out of the city,' he said, 'Head for where we left the van, hopefully it will still be there. If we are not with you in half an hour at the longest then head on without us. Those of us who can will find you. Push on and keep Her safe.'

'But what about you?' said Aziraphale, catching hold of his sleeve, 'Sandalphon, he...'

Crowley tightened his fingers around the staff in his hand, 'He needs reminding about my opinions on his behaviour,' he said, capturing the angel's cheek with his free hand and drawing him into a kiss, 'I am coming back to you, my love.'

He did not wait for a response, using whatever made them invisible to the crowds to allow him to open his wings. The black they had once been was chased to the edges, replaced by silver-grey, there expanse far larger than he had known for so long but it did not hinder him as he leapt from the altar, soaring over the heads of the confused humans who were still disoriented by the presence of God in their midst. Though they could not see him, he knew they could sense the breeze his wings swirled around them, watching them duck and startle. Had time not been against him he would have enjoyed the spectacle but he knew, even without God's words, that Lucifer and Beelzebub needed his aid. 

The doors to the basilica stood open and he dived through them, narrowly missing the heads of the tourists who were now moving in a greater panic as the fear rolled in from Rome. Whatever power had concealed him inside faded as he broke from the church, screams and cries along with many pointed fingers following him as he crossed the square. He paid them no mind, increasing his speed and he hurried to where he had left the others. 

The screaming of his sighting was nothing compared to the chaos outside of the Vatican, neither angel or demon concealing themselves as the battle between them spilled onto the streets. A hundred strong at least on both sides, though the angelic forces looked stronger, the demons Lucifer had managed to call to him doing as best they could unprepared. He hurried to the ground as he saw the bodies, demon and angel, and realised he had not seen such a sight since the Fall, Ligur obliterated by holy water rather than killed by celestial or demonic weapons. 

Keen eyes and a sensation of connection that had been humming at his consciousness since his memories had been returned to him flared as he turned his thoughts to Lucifer and quickly sought him out in the midst of the worst of the fighting. He hurried to his side, the staff that had been so long absent from his possession feeling a part of him once more as he knocked aside two smaller angels, the terror on their faces telling him that at least they took no enjoyment from the fight. 

He found the black haired demon though he looked a world away from the form he had grown used to since they had been travelling, leathery wings extended from his back, the blue flame of his broken halo looking more like the horns he wore in his most monstrous form. He remembered when his form had been beautiful rather than terrifying, the envy of Heaven which he enjoyed to show off to any angel that even glanced his way. There were many looking at him now, if only to find a weakness but the Lord of Hell was not so easily beaten.

He joined the fray though he kept his movements defensive, seeing the same expression on nearly every angel he faced as he had seen on the first two. Scared, following orders. He would not have their blood on his hands for as long as he could help it.

'Raphael!' came Lucifer's call as he spotted him, 'Where is She?'

'Safe,' shouted Crowley over the din, 'And stronger than She was.'

'Protected?'

'By the best,' said Crowley, sweeping aside another angel that rushed at him, 'What of us?'

'They are testing us,' said Lucifer, not nearly as merciful as he struck out with the fire he so easily commanded, 'This is not a force to annihilate, they are testing our strength.'

'Sandalphon?'

'Within still,' said Lucifer, 'I broke out. Beelzebub and those she commands remained to face him and those he keeps closest. He killed all the humans.'

'Bastard,' hissed Crowley, feeling the anger flare through him, scorching the air around his head.

He saw Lucifer's eyes widen in surprise a moment before he realised that he wore a similar halo to his, cracked and sparking but thrumming with the power he had once known. 

'Remind him of his place, my brother,' said Lucifer with a wicked smile before he turned back to chasing away his angelic assailants. 

Crowley turned back to the small cafe where their battle had begun, the windows shattered, chairs and tables that had been outside over turned and littering the road. He pushed them aside to reach the door, seeing the frenzied movement of figures within, allowing his anger at the blood that spattered the entrance to further fuel the fire that scorched through him. He felt the broken halo flare, wings spreading wide as the power thrummed through the staff and into his hands. He did not pause on the threshold, stepping into the fray. A demon bearing the fury of an angel.

xxxx

Aziraphale watched his husband swoop over the heads of the confused tourists, the great silver-grey wings a world away from the black he loved, the black that showed in such harmony against the white of his. He felt tears sting his eyes but blinked them away as he heard the cry of frustration from behind him, turning to see God with Her hands pressed once more to the altar.

'What's wrong?' he said, addressing the question to both Her and Michael.

'The humans...' said God, the words stumbling a little more than they had when she spoke to Crowley, 'Panicking...it's failing...Aziraphale...'

'What do You need?' he said, torn between duty and the wish to follow Crowley despite his request for him to remain with God.

'Belief,' She choked out, 'Let them...see...your wings.'

'Do it,' said Michael, as he hesitated, 'Aziraphale, you have a duty.'

'Please,' said God, Her hands shaking against the altar, 'I need you, child.'

Aziraphale watched as the power surrounding Her pulsed, gasps and cries echoing from those gathered around them as they were finally exposed on the altar. He pushed aside his fear, the age old imperative to keep his wings from human view, the thought of defying Her because of his fear more terrifying than the reactions of the humans. With a click he transformed his clothes to those he was more familiar with, the stolen weapons laid beside God on the steps, before he unfurled his wings.

The screaming increased, his appearance not easily dismissed as a stunt or hallucination, his ethereal power accompanying the appearance of his wings revealing to all, believer or not, that he was an angel of the Lord. He looked out over the sea of terrified faces, even the most devout unprepared for such a revelation of their faith. He watched people fall away in a dead faint, cry, shout, beg, throw themselves prostrate on the floor before the altar even as they sheltered their eyes from the light coming from them.

'Please hide us again,' he begged, 'They're terrified.'

'They still believe,' said God, Her voice strengthening once more, 'Even if they're scared. I am sorry for it but it is necessary. It is time.'

'Time for what, my Lord?' said Michael, picking up one of the swords from the altar as several more daring humans moved towards them.

'The truth must be told,' said God, 'Let them all know. All my children. Let them know the truth of what I did. Of how I cast out the ones who stood for them all in my vanity and pride and fear. Let them know.'

Aziraphale reached out, clasping Her hand and ignoring the shock that leapt up his arm as he did so, 'You can't. If what I've heard from Crowley is true You could have both Heaven and Hell against You. You will never regain power. You will never get back to Heaven if they don't support You.'

She smiled sadly, 'But they will know the truth of them. My two. My best two. Do you think one was midnight and one the dawn by chance, child?' She said, tears springing to Her eyes, 'It is time for the truth, Aziraphale. Let me go. I will not hurt you again.'

Aziraphale hesitated a moment before he let go of Her hand, stepping back from Her as She turned Her attention back to the power surrounding Her. With a grunt of effort the light increased becoming blinding even to the angels. 

'Let it be known,' She said, Her whole body shaking before She cried out as though trying to reach both Heaven and Hell by Her voice alone, 'Let it all be known.'

The light flashed, heat rushing from Her and Aziraphale reached out for Michael, dragging her into the mantle of his wings as he wrapped them around them both in an effort to protect them. He felt the floor shake beneath them, the glass shattering in the great windows and the humans screaming all the louder at the fearful display before them. Terror clutched at him but it doubled as Michael yelped in his grip, mournful eyes staring up at him as she cried.

'I remember,' she sobbed, 'Oh Aziraphale, I remember it all. The angels, the young ones, they... how could She? How could She?'

He waited for his own memories to return, for the horrors of the Fall to imprint themselves on his mind but nothing came to him. Not even the moments before Crowley had him take them both to Eden. The only thoughts he had were built on Crowley's words alone. He had no memory of Heaven, no memory of the brothers and sisters he had lost, and no memory of Raphael despite all the stories he had been told of their love. 

He held fast to Michael as she sobbed, feeling the heat continue to lick at them even in the protection of his wings. He held to his friend and waited for a memory he feared would never come.

xxxx

Crowley questioned whether he was really in control of the powers that had been slowly reawakening in him as, in the moment he walked through the door in his fury and causing all those fighting to pause in confusion at the sight, he felt a great heat rush through the building. He looked for fire, fearing one of the demons in their anger had let loose a hellfire too strong to be controlled but there was nothing to be seen though the heat was scorching. It took a moment for him to feel the divinity behind it, too powerful to be angelic and he turned back to the door, expecting to see God Herself in the frame. 

With no one present, he turned his attention back to the battle before him, not wanting to be caught out when the fighting commenced again. He was tempted to look again as he realised everyone was staring at him, angel and demon alike, their faces open with shock that slowly melted to other emotions. The demons looked close to weeping, their eyes wide as they regarded him but then with recognition way beyond what he was used to. Determination warred with their shock, becoming more dominant as they regained their composure. 

The angels on the other hand looked distressed beyond measure, their faces torn as they regarded their demonic opponents. It was Sandalphon who shook it off first, his expression melting from shock to a mocking sneer.

'And how the mighty have fallen, quite literally,' he said, 'Hello Raphael.'

'Sandalphon,' Crowley growled, 'I would like to say I'm surprised that Gabriel has you doing his dirty work but why change the habit of millennia. You were no more than a brute in Heaven and you're nothing but a brute now. '

'A demon dares to stand before me and call me names. If God has had to go crawling back to you then She truly is desperate. Does She think to raise the prince She threw down so publicly can somehow reclaim Her place for Her?'

'She abandoned us,' said one of the demons suddenly, 'She cast us out. We weren't even a part of the rebellion.'

'Shut up,' hissed Beelzebub, her tone harsh and breathless, 'This is not the time.'

'Oh no, let them question,' said Sandalphon, 'Let them ask why they were cast out. She went to your worthless master for help so let them question him as well. Why should he ally himself with one who sought to destroy him and all who followed him?'

'If that is the story Gabriel is having to spin then let those here know the truth of it,' said Crowley, 'God did not seek us out. Michael came to us when you had tortured her for daring to fulfil her duty. As for Lucifer coming to the aide of God, what does that say of the replacement you have sat upon Her throne, when the leader of the rebellion would seek his old enemy rather than Her replacement? It speaks far more of Gabriel's fear and weakness that he attacks us. If we are so abhorrent why not leave us be?'

Sandalphon raised the sword in his hand, the point aimed at Crowley despite the distance between them, 'You are an abomination that should be destroyed. That thing you claim as your mate is an abomination that should be destroyed. The fallen Archangel is an abomination...'

'Does this have a point or do you just enjoy the sound of your own voice?' snapped Crowley, the flames around his head flaring as his anger threatened to overwhelm the power within him, 'I would choose to be an abomination if the opposite is you.'

Sandalphon laughed cruelly, 'God was disgusted with you when She threw you down. Do you think She will reward you if you prevail? You are a puppet. A bauble She will laud to win favour and then cast aside once more.'

Beelzebub growled from the side of the room, 'I'm bored of him talking. Finish this Crowley,' she said, 'Whatever power She has given you, use it and finish him.'

Sandalphon smirked as he lowered his weapon, 'We're done here,' he said, 'All of you, away.'

It was a matter of moments before the angels that surrounded them disappeared and Crowley shook his head, trying to rid himself of the power that surrounded him as the demons he had not seen in years watched him with wary eyes.

'What the fuck just happened?' said Beelzebub, 'Everything...my memories. It all became clear as you walked in. What have you done?'

Crowley shook his head, feeling the power subside into a low hum inside him, 'Nothing,' he said, 'That wasn't me. I think God did it. She was tapping the power of the Vatican somehow. I felt Her power. Do you all remember?'

The collected demons nodded, their faces drawn. 

'Back below, all of you,' barked Beelzebub, 'And whatever you remember, Lucifer is still your master and you act at his whim. Back below and await your orders.'

They hesitated for a moment before the demons disappeared, leaving Beelzebub and Crowley stood alone amongst the bodies of the humans. Crowley looked down at the blood pooling at his feet, forcing down the horror that flooded him at the sight.

'I don't know what She has done, how She's restored what you remember,' he said, 'But She has done it and She can answer you. We need to return to the others because if this is how Gabriel believes Heaven should act then I would still throw my lot in with Her, despite everything. She could cast me down again and I would suffer it it only to prevent this.'

Beelzebub frowned, 'You care too much,' she said, 'It is a disadvantage.'

Crowley regarded her, remembering how she had once looked in Heaven, young and earnest as he had been, 'You cared too much once too,' he said, 'You were willing to fight for the young ones.'

Beelzebub blushed but stood a little taller, 'Someone had to,' she said, before she shook her head, 'We need to find Lucifer, this headache is not fun.'

'Fair warning, it might get worse,' said Crowley, 'Though I'm hoping God is a little gentler with your memories than Lucifer was with mine.'

He could swear he could see the slightest formation of a smile on her lips but she turned away from him too quickly for him to be sure of it. She stumbled slightly on the blood slicked floor, quickly wrapping her hand around her middle and drawing Crowley's eyes to the dark stain on her jacket.

'You're wounded?' 

Beelzebub shrugged, holding onto the upturned tables as they made their way to the door, 'A scratch,' she said, 'Some minor angel got in a lucky nick when I was facing Sandalphon. It's nothing.'

'Beelzebub?'

'It's nothing,' she snapped, 'Don't we have somewhere to be?'

Crowley chose not to argue with her but hurried his footsteps as she reached the door and stepped out. 

The street was a scene of devastation, human bodies littering the floor, stains on the road all that was left of the ethereal and demonic bodies that had fallen, whatever had remained of the dead and discorporated returned to their respective realms when they had departed. The humans moved in a daze, emergency services beginning to arrive and Crowley quickly masked both himself and Beelzebub from mortal eyes. 

They found Lucifer quickly, the Lord of Hell surrounded still by a handful of dazed looking demons, some of them bearing injuries from the skirmish. 

'What happened?' he said as he saw them approach, 'It felt like flame and then they all began to speak of remembering. They know what happened in the Fall despite God having hidden it. Only She and I knew in its fullest until I returned the memory to you, Crowley.'

'I don't know what She did,' he said, 'When I left Her with Aziraphale and Michael, She could speak and control whatever power She was gaining from the Vatican. I don't know what happened after She sent me to help you, not that I did much to help. I just pissed off Sandalphon.'

'Actually,' said Beelzebub, 'You turning up looking like some broken angel in fury made them all stop. A few more seconds and I'm ashamed to say they would have overcome us but it still doesn't explain why She's given me this headache.'

'She's the one to ask,' said Lucifer before he turned to the remaining demons, 'Get back below. I will return soon and I want to see no unrest. You will await my instructions.'

The demons vanished without a word of protest, the confusion on their faces lessening slightly at the familiar barked commands they were used to from their superiors. 

'Where are the others?' said Lucifer.

'The van,' answered Crowley, 'At least I hope they are. Movement out of the city isn't going to be easy though, the humans are going to shut things down.'

'Then we will find other ways,' said Lucifer, 'Let's go. I'm keen to be able to speak with Her once more, there are questions.'

Crowley frowned as he followed Lucifer away from the worst of the bodies, 'Questions She may not be willing to answer,' he said, before he looked back, seeing Beelzebub struggling to keep pace with them.

He fell back, offering an arm without a word and knowing her injury was worse when she was owning as she took it. They moved through the city, unseen by the mortal eyes that regarded each other with confusion and suspicion. Crowley hated the sight of it, the poison that had spread through Heaven now infecting the world he had sworn to protect. He wished he had done more than traded words with Sandalphon, sending Gabriel back a body rather than his right hand torturer enough to let him know that they had no intention of letting him win but he had little doubt that such an act would have had swift and terrible retribution. His only hope was that whilst the memories God had restored would have every soul, angel or demon, seeing Her in a less than favourable light, it would also remind them that Gabriel had stood by and done nothing for the angels who had fallen without cause. That the demons Heaven stood against innocent brethren to the angels who remained. 

He was pulled from his thoughts as Beelzebub stumbled, doing nothing to catch herself, his reaction the only thing that stopped her from hitting the pavement. 

'Easy there,' he said, feeling the shallowness of her breath as he wrapped an arm around her to keep her upright, 'Lucifer! She's hurt.'

'I'm alright, let me go,' she slurred, struggling in his grip but there was no strength in it, 'Dammit Crowley. I'm not some flimsy angel, don't coddle me'

'No you're a bull headed idiot,' said Lucifer, 'What's wrong?'

Beelzebub regained her feet but her hands kept a tight hold on Crowley's arm, 'Blessed bloody angel stuck me with something,' she said, 'It's not deep but it feels like... I think they'd tipped their weapons with holy water.'

'Can't be holy water,' said Crowley, 'A drop and you'd be dead.'

Beelzebub shook her head, 'Takes more than a drop,' she said, 'Since you survived it, I've been desensitizing myself. The tiniest drop, ever increasing, for the last four years. I poured a thimble full over my hand two weeks ago and the worst I got was a burn that went to the bone. Took two days to heal. Never tried getting any inside me though. It burns quicker, I think.'

Crowley groaned, 'You're an idiot in so many ways,' he said, 'We need to get you to God. I don't think either of us can heal anything involving holy water.' 

'Then stop talking about it and get me there,' she said, her eyes screwing shut before she forced the words out between her teeth, 'I don't think I can walk.'

Lucifer said nothing, lifting her with ease and securing her in his arms before he turned to Crowley, 'Can you sustain the invisibility for us in flight too?' he said, 'Speed is necessary I think.'

'We'll risk it,' said Crowley, extending his silver-grey wings once more, their size almost matching Lucifer's, 'They've all seen worse today.'

With a leap they were above the rooftops, hurrying towards the car park they had arrived to, hoping that they would find God and her two angelic guards waiting for them.

xxxx

Aziraphale descended the steps from the battered camper van he had long since hoped he had seen the back of. He could still hear the quiet sobs from inside as he came to lean against the thin metal wall, the figure beside him looking stronger than She had done but Her face was drawn, Her own cheeks stained with the tears She had shed. His own memory of Heaven before the Fall was still woefully lacking but he at least had Crowley's story to go by as Michael struggled to speak of anything and God was reluctant to share more. 

He had finally persuaded God and Michael to leave St Peters and head for their rendezvous point when the power had begun to fade from the altar. The journey had been difficult amidst the confusion but they had not met any resistance other than the high emotions as Michael remembered and God mourned. He had longed for Crowley's presence with every step, hoping that whatever power God had seemed to pass to him along with the staff was keeping him safe. 

'Why did You do it?' he said, breaking the stifling silence, 'Why make them remember?'

'Time,' She said softly, 'Time for them.'

'Crowley and Lucifer?' said Aziraphale, 'Why?'

'Soon,' She said, offering him a small smile, 'When we're altogether and safe.'

Aziraphale nodded, 'As You wish, Lord,' he said, 'Might I ask though if you could return my memories too? I don't seem to have recovered mine yet.'

She shook Her head, 'I did not take them,' She said, 'You were beyond me then. He hid you well, that headstrong child of mine. He must be the one to return them to you. He will remember soon enough.'

Aziraphale frowned, fingers knotting together before him as he forced himself to speak, 'I have no doubt I speak out of turn but speak I must, Lord, for you see, everything I do know does not sit favourably between You and Crowley,' he said, 'You imprisoned him against his will, tortured him he says, and then You damned him when he would not yield. When last we spoke on it, You indicated You were no longer angry with him and You gave us Your blessing for want of a better word but even so it seems You know more about the changes coming over him and I'm afraid. I'm afraid that all this is some way of returning him to that... the prince. Please do not hurt him again. Please don't force him to be something he has no wish to be. I'll do anything, just don't...'

Cool hands captured his face and he opened his eyes, not realising he had closed them in his pleading. She swiped at the errant tear that escaped his eye, Her own looking mournfully at him.

'Such pain,' She said sadly, 'And such loyalty to him. I was so wrong about you, my young one. I must tell all to Crowley and Lucifer first but I give you my word that I shan't force his hand. If he uses the power within him, it will be on his own terms. I promise, Aziraphale, I mean him no harm. Trust that six thousand years has given me much time to reflect. I have much to atone for with all of you.'

Aziraphale opened his mouth to answer before he felt the familiar sensation of demonic energy approaching. He knew She felt the same as She stepped away, both of them turning their eyes towards the feeling. 

'The sky, look,' he said, before he called through the door, 'Michael, they're here.'

'Only two,' said God, as Michael hurried down the steps, 'Only two of them.'

'No look,' said Aziraphale, 'Lucifer is carrying Beelzebub. Perhaps she's hurt.'

He watched as Crowley pointed down to them, Lucifer and he beginning a hurried descent, wings disappearing as they hit the ground but their pace did not slow, the pair of them covering the remaining distance at a run. 

'She needs help quickly,' said Crowley as Lucifer deposited Beelzebub gently on the ground, 'Struck, the blade may have been tipped with holy water.'

'She's still alive?' said Aziraphale, 'But even a drop...'

'Yeah, luckily she's an idiot,' said Crowley.

'Stories later,' said Lucifer, pulling open Beelzebub's jacket, the shirt beneath stained crimson with far more blood than they had expected, 'This is more than a scratch, Beelzebub. I'd strangle you myself if it would do you some good.'

'Shut up,' hissed the demon prince, turning her face to God, 'Fix this. Your bloody angels did it to me. Fix it. I want the chance to stick fucking Sandalphon with something bearing my hellfire.'

God shook Her head, 'I don't have the strength,' She said, 'Even the belief I gained from the Vatican is waning.'

'You have to try,' said Lucifer, 'Please.'

'She abandoned you once, why not again,' said Michael, bitterly.

Aziraphale waved a hand to silence them, 'This is not the time,' he said, 'Crowley, can you? You saved Michael.'

The demon knelt at Beelzebub's side, 'I'll try but holy water is different to sickness,' he said, 'Beelzebub?'

'I don't care who does it,' she said, 'Just stop it hurting.'

Crowley lay a hand over the wound, brow creasing in effort for several moments before he shook his head, 'Even the wound won't knit. I've not got the strength.'

'Then both of you try,' said God, 'With me.'

Crowley looked over at Lucifer, the black haired demon nodding before he covered Crowley's hand with his own, God's joining them as She faced them both. 

'Remember,' She said, 'Remember back then and make her whole again.'

Aziraphale felt Michael's fingers curl around his sleeve as they looked on, the three figures knelt beside Beelzebub seeming to communicate without words as the faint glow worked over the demon prince's skin. He heard her sudden shuddering gasp before a pained shriek startled the birds from the nearby trees. She reached out, fingers digging into Lucifer's arm for purchase as she thrashed beneath their hands. Another scream left her before she calmed, her breathing laboured as God took Her hand away, releasing the other two. 

Crowley fell back onto his heels, head dropping to his chest from the exertion but Lucifer retained a little more strength as he coaxed Beelzebub's grip from his arm, holding her hand in his as he helped her to sit up. 

'Back with me?' he asked.

'I think so,' said Beelzebub, 'But that hurt and I feel weird.'

'You will,' said God, 'For a while at least. You're Forgiven as much as I am able to right now, Beelzebub. You're Forgiven and so you are healed.'

The word silenced even the birds, the weight of it falling upon them all. It felt as though it would hold them forever until a sound not previously heard broke it, Beelzebub's stifled cries soon refusing to stay silenced as she buried her face in her hands and wept.


	17. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having escaped Rome, those working to restore God have to confront their restored memories and conversations are had that may determine the future of their quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I am so sorry for the delay in this chapter and for the fact that I have not responded to all your lovely comments. I promise to get round to it at some point. I am hoping to update a little more frequently over the next couple of weeks as work has slowed down a little for me but I am still at the mercy of the house buying process so please continue to bear with me.

'I don't understand,' said Aziraphale as Beelzebub's cries quieted to sobs, buried in her hands, 'Is she an angel again?'

God shook Her head, 'I don't have the power to restore her to such a place,' She said, 'And it is a choice she needs to make herself. I have given her what I can, my love and forgiveness can at least protect her from the more dangerous elements Heaven could unleash. I'm afraid I am not entirely sure myself what this all means. I am not used to being so depleted.'

'Is that what You did to me?' asked Crowley, his voice catching slightly as he spoke, 'Before we ran into the Vatican.'

She nodded, 'Yes, I knew I needed to get in there but I wanted you with me,' She said, 'Plus, my forgiveness was given when there was never any crime to answer for. There is much we have to talk about, child.'

Crowley nodded, turning his face away as his fingers closed once more around his staff, 'Not here though,' he said, 'We were meant to head to the port and we still have to reach Eden if that is still our goal.'

Michael snorted, 'Why not just send Her below and get Her forgiving everyone, though if they remember what I do there may still be issues with trust and belief.'

'Michael!' admonished Aziraphale but God soon waved him down.

'Peace, she has every right to question,' She said before a wry smile took Her features, 'And before anyone utters a word I am aware that is quite a change on previous ideals. Crowley is right though, we have a journey ahead of us and I would prefer to put as much distance as possible between us and Rome. We do not need another visit at this moment.'

'I think an hour on the road would give us all some thinking time,' said Lucifer, placing a hand on Beelzebub's back, the gentle movement making a lie of the words that followed, 'Up and stop snivelling, you or I'll demote you to tempting politicians.'

Beelzebub sniffed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, 'That's work for a duke and I'm still the Prince of Hell, even if I'm a little more divine than I was,' she said composing herself a little more before she looked up to God, 'Thank You for saving me but I'll say now that my loyalty, as ever, remains with Lucifer. I hope You can accept that.'

God nodded, 'And I shall not recant anything for the stating of it,' She said, 'I hope one day I earn such loyalty back from those who were once on my side. But enough of that for now. We should go.'

'I'll drive,' said Crowley, getting to his feet, 'Angel, ride up front with me?'

'Of course,' said Aziraphale, capturing the hand that wasn't holding onto the staff, waiting until they were near to the front of the van before he spoke again, 'Are you alright?'

Crowley nodded, 'I think so. My head is spinning, focusing on the road will help,' he said, 'Did you get here without much trouble? Feels like hours since I saw you last.'

'A lot has happened,' said Aziraphale, looking back to see Lucifer herding everyone into the back of the van despite the tension he could see surrounding them all, 'Michael was distraught but she came along quietly. Her memories of the Fall have upset her. I'm still not sure what God stood to gain in revealing everything so violently.'

Crowley leaned against the driver's door, 'I don't know and I'm afraid to ask the question,' he said, before he dropped his voice to a whisper, 'I can't bring myself to trust Her yet.'

'What are we going to do?' said Aziraphale, 'I thought the idea was to restore belief in Her.'

Crowley tapped the end of his staff against the door absently, 'That was our idea,' he said, 'She's never asked for it.'

'Then what are we doing?' said Aziraphale.

'Keeping on,' said Crowley holding the staff out to him, 'Keep hold of that for me. I used to be able to hide it in the ether but I don't want to lose track of it. I feel stronger with it in my hand and if Gabriel sends more forces I want it near. It was lucky you found it.'

Aziraphale held the staff in both hands, the wood warm from Crowley's touch and something that lingered still beneath the surface, an ancient memory, 'It called to me.'

'But you still don't remember?' said Crowley.

Aziraphale shook his head, 'She said you would remember how to give them back to me in time,' he said, 'I can wait until you're ready.'

He headed around the front of the cab, opening the passenger door, negotiating himself and the staff into the passenger seat. Crowley followed suit, too many conversations needing to be had but they none of them had strength to begin. He opened the driver's door, climbing up and starting the engine, glad when it responded first time. He cast a look over his shoulder, seeing Beelzebub laid out on the couch as they others took various seats on the dingy floor, eyes turned away from one another as they kept silent. It was only God who looked up and met his gaze, Her smile small but reassuring as She offered him a small nod. He turned his attention back to the road, aiming them for the first road that would take them out of Rome.

xxxx

The journey to Civitavecchia was mostly silent, the only sound being Aziraphale's occasional directions as he guided Crowley along the roads. As they reached the approach to the port though they soon became aware of the problem before them, tailbacks of traffic and, on the horizon, dozens of ships unable to leave the port, the telltale lights of emergency vehicles letting them no that access and egress from Italy was possible with the country still believing itself under a terrorist threat. 

Wanting to move away from any populated areas in case Gabriel found them again, they headed into the pine forest that edged the city, parking up within the dense trees overlooking the port. Despite the trouble in Rome and the return of their memories, several demons had remained in the port under Beelzebub's command and she was soon in contact with them, quickly confirming that no ships were leaving the port until the morning at least and leaving them with little choice but to make camp for the night rather than attempt the border anywhere else with the country on high alert. 

'At least it's pretty,' said Aziraphale as he picked up several more fallen branches, 'Though I would prefer a bed over the forest floor.'  
Michael huffed in response, toeing at the pine needles beneath her feet, her own bundle of sticks far smaller. 

Aziraphale frowned, 'Are you ever going to speak again or have you taken a vow of silence to match that habit of yours?' he said, aiming for frivolity but it soon fell flat as he watched her drop the sticks and head deeper into the woods.

'She is angry with me,' said God, passing him and picking up Michael's discarded pile, 'I'm sorry she is taking it out on the rest of you.'

'Can't you talk to her? Explain things?'

God shook Her head, 'She's not ready,' She said, 'And I have more pressing matters. I came to bring you back to the camp. I want to talk to Crowley but I think he would prefer it if you were nearby. He will need you I think. He always looks to you when he is uncertain I have seen.'

Aziraphale nodded, swallowing back the lump in his throat, 'As You wish,' he said, hands fumbling the sticks he carried but he managed to keep hold of them, 'What about Michael?'

'She won't go far,' She said, 'She is angry, not foolish.'

'From my experience people can be very foolish when they're angry,' said Aziraphale, watching a wry smile form on Her lips.

'Quite,' she replied, 'But she is sensible enough not to go far. She needs time with her own thoughts. Come.'

She turned, leading him back to their makeshift camp. The van stood off to one side, providing some cover from the wind coming inland off the sea. A small fire burned within a ring of rocks, surrounded by ratty blankets they had found stashed in the cubby beneath the couch. Beelzebub sat nearest to the flames, holding her hands over them as she stared into the fire. When Aziraphale had left to find more wood she had still be with God inside the van, the two of them afforded some privacy as they had talked, old wounds needing to be opened and allowed to bleed afresh before they could fully heal. He could read nothing from her expression but Lucifer, who had done nothing but pace the forest floor when they had been sequestered away, looked relaxed as he sat on one of the blankets beside Crowley, the pair of them conversing quietly as though they had spent the centuries as friends rather than master and servant. 

Aziraphale felt something twist inside him as he saw Crowley laugh at whatever Lucifer said to him, the smile that followed it one he had only seen when he had been with the demon. The smile was replaced by question as Crowley looked up at their approach, eyes hidden by the dark glasses he wore despite none of the company being concerned by them.

'Where's Michael?' said Lucifer, breaking the sudden silence.

'She headed off alone,' said Aziraphale when God did not answer, 'She needs some time to think.'

He got to his feet, brushing the pine needles from his trousers, 'No one should be on their own,' he said, 'There's nothing to say Gabriel won't track us again and whilst she's capable she doesn't have the strength. I'll go and find her.'

He reached down, hand closing briefly on Crowley's shoulder before he headed passed God and Aziraphale, moving deeper into the woods. Crowley kept his eyes trained on them both as they approached, setting the wood they had collected on the dwindling pile. 

'I suppose now is a good a time as any,' said the demon, getting the his feet, the staff he had carried from the Vatican left on the threadbare blanket, 'Shall we?'

'Crowley?' said Aziraphale as he headed towards the van.

Crowley paused with a foot on the first step into the interior, 'I'll be alright, angel,' he said, 'I'll be alright.'

Aziraphale nodded, sitting down on the blanket Crowley had vacated and resting his fingers against the staff as God followed him into the van. He jumped as he felt a touch on his arm, looking down to see Beelzebub's small hand pressed against his sleeve.

'He may look like little more than a broomstick in need of a brush,' said the demon prince, her hand leaving his arm to reach inside her pocket, 'But you know how strong he is. Here, we get the good stuff where I'm from.'

She pulled the small flask from inside the pocket of her jacket, handing it to him. He took it, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip without question, the familiar burn of whiskey easing the knots inside him. He handed it back, turning his eyes to the flames as Beelzebub settled herself a little more comfortably at his side. 

'You and Crowley make a lot more sense now I can remember things,' she said, 'You were inseparable in Heaven. Used to infuriate Gabriel, you know. He didn't like a Seraphim paying so much attention to a Principality over the Archangels, said it was out of the order of things.'

'Who were you? In Heaven I mean,' said Aziraphale.

Beelzebub shrugged, 'Same name. I was an Archangel, with the capital letter so higher order,' she said, 'Never had a particularly grand task given to me. Just did my best to avoid Gabriel and his little lot. Only one out of them who was half decent and that was Michael but she followed him about still. Got to know Lucifer early on, signed up with him the moment he told me what She had planned for him and for you. I don't regret it, even though we failed.'

'Hard to succeed when the odds were against you from the start by the sound of things,' said Aziraphale, looking over his shoulder at the van behind him, 'The only reason I wasn't in Hell with you is him.'

Beelzebub held the flask out to him once more, pulling his attention away from the camper, 'For what it's worth,' she said, 'I think you would have made a pretty good demon and I mean that in a good way.'

Aziraphale laughed, 'Four years ago I would have been appalled to hear that,' he said, handing her back the flask, 'I find I don't mind it so much now.'

'There's hope for you yet then,' said Beelzebub, leaning back on her hands and staring up at the canopy.

'We'll see,' said Aziraphale, his eyes drifting back to the camper van but the door remained firmly closed against him.

xxxx

The sound of a twig breaking beneath a boot was enough to alert Lucifer to Michael's position, further away from the camp than he would have liked but still close enough for her to have called for help should she have needed it. He crossed the small distance towards the sound, finding her in a small clearing, arms folded tightly against her chest as she paced the forest floor, long grey skirts swishing in the fallen pine needles. He leaned against the trunk of one of the towering trees, arms mimicking hers as he watched her. He watched her stiffen as she felt his eyes on her, turning with a scowl on her face.

'What do you want?' she snapped.

'Nothing particular,' said Lucifer, 'Though if I had to answer I would say I would prefer if we could all remain in one place for a time as things seems to go south the moment we're separated.'

Michael worried the needles beneath her with the toe of her boot, 'I don't think I'd be that much of a loss right now,' she said, 'Not really worth much when it comes to a fight.'

Lucifer laughed but there was no humour in the sound, 'My, my we are having a pity party, aren't we?' he said, 'What the deuce have you learned in the restoration of your memories that we haven't been telling you from the start? You know God bred a generation of angels bound for Hell and that the rebellion I led was against that. You've supported God despite that knowledge but now you are angry with Her and we're all getting to suffer for it.'

Michael looked up at him, blue eyes made bright by unshed tears, 'You think this is anger?' she said, before she shook her head, 'Of course you do. Anger, hate, pain. They're your game now, aren't they and you have to fit every behaviour into a hellish box.'

Lucifer cocked an eyebrow, 'Sounds a lot like anger to me each time you've spat fire at one of us or turned your nose up in a huff,' he said, 'Enlighten me, oh revered warrior of the Lord, what is this if not anger?'

Michael scowled but the effect was ruined as her lips trembled, 'Shame,' she sobbed, turning away from him, her cries barely muffled even by the hand she held over her mouth.

Lucifer left his place by the tree, crossing the short distance between them. He hesitated a moment before he laid a hand on her shoulder, feeling her tense beneath his fingers.

'Why shame?' he said, 'What happened was not your doing.'

'I did nothing,' she said, hands falling to her sides in fists, the grip so tight her skin was white and bloodless, 'I stood aside, knowing what was happening, and did nothing. At least some of the others could plead ignorance but I... you told me what was to become of them, asked me to help you and I chose to save my own neck and blindly followed orders. I rounded up the young ones, I fought the rebels and brought them to Her, I broke bones and ripped wings and then stood and watched Her condemn you all. I saw you all bloodied at Her feet and did nothing. I didn't plead for mercy. I didn't ask for clemency. I stood aside even as Raphael sacrificed everything to plead for you all.'

'You and ten million others,' said Lucifer, 'It was an impossible choice.'

'A choice Beelzebub, Dagon and Hastur made amongst others,' said Michael, 'All of them Archangels, my order, and they were brave enough. I was a coward and I am ashamed to stand with you all. All of you are so brave and I was too scared, too keen to follow orders and be the perfect warrior in Her eyes.'

'You stepped out,' said Lucifer, 'At the end. I saw you break ranks when Raphael stood before Her and challenged Her to answer him. If Uriel had not stopped you... I hate them for what they do now but I am grateful they stopped you that day. I could not have seen you fall.'

She turned, eyes cast to the ground even as she spoke his name, 'Lucifer.'

He felt the unfamiliar sting of tears in his own eyes as he moved his hand from her shoulder to her cheek, turning her face up to his, 'Look at me and know me again,' he said, 'Now you remember me as I was, let me see the memory in your eyes. Michael if I am grateful for anything back then, it is that you did not follow when I asked it of you. That my failure did not taint you.'

She shook her head, 'You were my friend and I failed you,' she said, 'I thought I had done the right thing. The memories She gave me told me you were truly evil, that I had been righteous and true to stand against you. I believed it for so long and now I know the truth I fear I will never recover my dignity, my pride. I am so ashamed of myself. I was such a coward.'

'A coward who stood against Gabriel when he spoke against your creator and then endured torture without breaking to hold to your principles. A coward who sought two who could have easily destroyed you, who had reason to, and begged for help. A coward who has proved intelligent, gallant, unwavering and brave despite every roadblock before us. Were but there more cowards like you in this world, Michael.'

He watched a tear break from her eye before she hid her face from him, pressing her forehead to his shoulder as he cradled her head in his hand, grateful that she had discarded the veil that had accompanied her disguise. 

'Do not be ashamed of what happened back then,' he said, 'I never thought badly of you for it, even in the darkest days of the beginning.'

'How did you bear to remember it all?' she asked, her voice muffled by his jacket, 'For all those years you knew the truth, yet you played the game to Her rules.'

He sighed, 'I came to understand Her,I think,' he said, 'I won't say that it didn't hurt, that I didn't want it to be different but I understood Her and what my place was in the world. I never thought others would know, that so much would change as it has but I'm glad it did. Now everyone knows, regardless of what happens in the days ahead, and the future will be forged on the truth.'

Michael huffed out a laugh, 'I get to die knowing I'm a prize idiot.'

'You fit right in with the rest of us,' said Lucifer, stroking her hair once more before he stepped away, 'We should get back. It will be dark soon and we all need to rest.'

Michael looked over his shoulder in the direction of the camp despite it being out of sight, 'I should collect some more wood,' she said, 'At least be of some use. Would you walk with me for a while?'

Lucifer nodded, 'If the mood takes me I might even carry a twig or two.'

Michael's laugh this time was genuine, mirth rather than self deprecation in the tone, 'Now I remember you, I can safely say you have not changed.'

Lucifer clasped his hands behind his back, 'Perhaps, instead of not changing, I am finding my way back to myself,' he said, 'But that is a philosophical debate to be drawn out when I am less exhausted from running across Europe.'

'At least you get to do it in your own clothes,' said Michael, 'Next time we save the world, you can dress as the nun.'

'Wouldn't be the first time,' said Lucifer, 'And I'd prefer that to the cardinal look any day.'

Michael smiled, 'And here's me thinking red would be more your colour,' she said, taking his arm as he offered it to her, several decent fallen branches passed by as they headed slowly back to the camp.

xxxx

Crowley crossed his arms over his chest, his back to the door as he heard it click shut behind them. He suppressed the shudder that wanted to rush through him, pushing aside the memory of the last time he found himself truly alone with his Creator. He strained to hear the voices outside the camper van but even the skinny metal walls were not thin enough for him to hear through. He wanted to scream, just to check they could hear him, the fear rising up to choke him as he heard Her feet come to a halt barely a yard behind him. Words warred for dominance in his head, from pleas, to quips, to questions but none passed his lips. He heard Her sigh, as he continued to face away from Her, feeling the subtle movement of the air as She too fought for the words to say.

'I've had this conversation in my head so many times,' She said, 'But now it's time, I cannot find the words.'

'You expect me to?' he said, flinching at his own tone as he remembered the wrath he had faced when he had approached Her with questions in Heaven.

'I expect nothing of you, child,' She said, 'Least not in how we deal with this but I would ask that I could see your face as I try to muddle through this. Or does it cause you pain to look on me still?'

Crowley loosened the death grip on his own arms but did not turn back to Her, 'I don't believe those cast out of Heaven were welcome to look upon the face of God any more.'

'You've stared me down one too many time since we met again for me to believe that to be your reason,' She said, 'Crowley, please, look at me.'

He closed his eyes, the urge to run rising up once more but he forced it back,opening him and turning until he met the piercing eyes before him.

She smiled. 'Thank you. I didn't relish the thought of speaking to your back,' She said, 'You always were stubborn.'

'If we're listing my faults, You may want to take a seat,' said Crowley, 'I believe they are numerous.'

'So are mine. In fact, of all the souls here, I think mine is probably the most flawed. I've had so very long to think on my mistakes, to regret, to repent, though there has been no one to hear it. Will you be my confessor, Crowley? Here, away from the trappings and ceremony attributed to my name. Just me and one of the first I willed into this world. Can I tell you my wrongs and have you listen?'

Crowley frowned, 'That would depend on what You expect in exchange,' he said, 'I don't know that I could ever...forgive... how can I...'

She held up a hand, 'I don't ask for that,' She said, 'I will never ask for that. I cannot. No through pride or position, merely because I cannot ask for something I do not yet feel worthy of. All I want is to tell you the whole truth about me, us and what led us here. What you do after that, is up to you, with no repercussions. I am not what I was. I have been humbled and broken through no ones fault but my own and until I lay it all out, I am not worthy of the loyalty and bravery you and the others have shown.'

'Then why not tell them too,' said Crowley, 'Why just me?'

Wide eyes blinked back tears as She turned Her face from him, 'Because out of all my angels, you were the one I could always talk to,' She said, 'My favourite and my heir, until I threw it all away. You were the first you know, you and Lucifer. You were the first where I really got it right. There had been angels before you, lesser choirs but the two of you were the first I got right. I didn't feel alone, once you were both there.'

Crowley looked on as She wrapped Her arms around Herself, addressing Her words to the cabinet opposite Her. He felt too tall, standing over Her shorter stature, and without thinking he lowered himself on the threadbare couch, seeing Her eyes flick over him at the movement before She began to pace the scant floor. 

'When I realised who you were, when I started to listen in to everything happening with the child and Armageddon, the words great plan and ineffable plan stuck out a lot. Great plan versus ineffable plan and there's you in the middle of it, shielded from my sight for so long by my own foolishness but still arguing that I knew what was meant to happen and that these plans differed from one another. How I wish they'd ever existed because then maybe I'd know what to do,' She said, 'Never once did you or any of the others stop and think that maybe I didn't have the faintest clue what was meant to happen. I'm ancient, so very ancient that you are all but seconds on the great clock of my life if I am to use that metaphor. I remember aeons of time passing in silence and cold and dark. Aeons of loneliness but it hadn't always been that way, I could remember heat and light and sound, voices upon voices and then suddenly, nothing. I was nothing, there was nothing. As I remembered the things I had known, I began to long for them and then one day I felt light come from me and I knew I could build what I needed. Before I had time to even consider there was light and matter and Heaven and then I wanted voices. Crowley, if you only knew how it felt the first time I heard those angels sing. I was addicted and I grew greedy for all that was mine, the light, the heat, the sound, all mine but they just sang, praised what I gave them. I needed more.'

She paused, turning to look at him, the smile that had come to Her lips in the telling failing Her as She regarded him. 

'I wanted someone more like me. I wanted something different because I'd realised that in my need for all I remembered, I had lost its opposites. I had too much light and sound and heat that I missed the dark and quiet. I realised I needed balance, I needed both and with that thought in my head, I found you and Lucifer. My dark, quiet, contrary Lucifer and my fiery, brilliant, wilful Raphael. You were both so beautiful and you spoke and thought and I burst with joy at the sight of you. From then on, I promised balance. I brought forth angels of differing skills and orders and together we forged creation. My ideas maybe but executed by the uniqueness of you all. All in the honour of me though. Another addiction. All those beautiful things made for me. I remember the first nebula you made me, do you? The colours were so bright.'

Crowley nodded at the memory, 'They call it the Cat's Eye Nebula now I think,' he said, his voice hushed in the quiet that followed Her words. 

'I wanted to give you more to create,' She said, 'That's what eventually became my idea for Earth and Man. A place for you to create so much and people to worship you for it. I realised though that it would be as lonely for you as it was for me, to have only worshippers, as I had had my first choirs. I remember watching you and Lucifer one day, so opposite but working as one and I thought, what if they worked together there. One to rule the light and one to rule the dark but always working together. I began to plan, to build Man and Earth. I set you to Eden because I knew it would make you happy. I would give you my choirs of angels to work for your designs and then I realised Lucifer would need help as well and so I gave him Aziraphale's generation. I forgot, in my haste, to discuss my plans with you both though. Angels for the light and angels for the dark, simple or so I thought. I did not realise how things were changing around me, how those personalities that made Heaven so varied were beginning to vie for position. I did not see the discontent, the ambition. I did not predict that in giving you the power to love me that I had given you the power to love anyone you chose.'

'Aziraphale,' said Crowley, his husband's name feeling like a prayer on his lips as the love he had felt in Heaven fused with the love that had grown in the six thousand years since they had met again on the wall of Eden, 'Surely I was not the first to love another. He was one of the last to be created.'

She frowned, 'I know there were particular friendships but the two of you were so open, so public. You wore your affection like a beacon for all to see.'

'And You were jealous,' said Crowley.

The silence that fell was stifling, hanging over them both and he kept his eyes on Her face, studying Her expression as he saw the accusation hit home. He refused to show his fear, glad years of play acting to his superiors in Hell had made him competent regardless of how terrified he felt. It was Her expression that fell first before She turned Her face away from him with a small nod.

'I was jealous,' She admitted, 'When I saw how you preferred him, sought him out when before you came to me. I was lonely. You were mine.'

Any fear was swiftly replaced by anger as Crowley got to his feet, 'So You caged me and sent my brother to Hell in the cruellest possible way, condemning the best angel You ever created along with him. Condemning all the young ones who did nothing but praise You and work for You,' he said, 'Never once did You explain, never once did You speak to us as equals. You ordered and You condemned all who failed to jump to Your whim. Now You stand here, the vision of contrition, but all I am hearing is a sob story. Woe is me, the most powerful entity in the whole of creation, who threw the temper tantrum to end all temper tantrums. You tortured me. You tortured Lucifer and those who stood with him. You condemned a generation of innocent angels and when I begged You, on my knees to spare them, to think, You rendered me mute and blind, a bauble to glorify You whilst the angel I loved walked so willingly to his fate. It was by luck alone that I awoke in time to save him. I can't even begin to think how horrific Your little experiment on Earth would have been without his compassion, without his heart. You have not said a single word to me that justifies what You did, how You acted.'

'Then what do you expect me to say?' She said, 'Have I not said I was wrong? Have I not said that I had no plan and everything ran away from me? What more can I say to you?'

'You could start with actually saying You're sorry,' snapped Crowley, realising how loud he had shouted when a knock came on the door, Aziraphale's voice following quickly behind it.

'Crowley? Are you alright?'

'Fine, angel,' he said, cursing the tremble in his voice, 'I'm fine.'

He waited until no further question came before he turned back to God, holding up his hand as She began to speak.

'Don't,' he said, cursing the tears in his eyes, 'I don't want to hear it. Will You say sorry now I've asked for it? Well I refuse to hear it. You may have given Aziraphale your blessing, for all it's worth, and You may have promised to treat him with the kindness he deserves but they are just words and they are hollow. I loved You once. I came to You, as a child to their Mother, and I begged You to think. To be kind. To be everything I thought You to be and You hurt me. You betrayed me because You couldn't see that my love for You didn't diminish in my love for him. You betrayed Lucifer because You were more willing to let him be a pawn than to let him have a choice in his own future and You have carried that on for millennia with him since. He has believed You and He has worked for the balance of the world. You don't get to say sorry now. You do not get to cry and beg for my sympathy. The only reason I don't throw You on Heaven's mercy now is because there are others out there that want me to believe in You and, for all Your many faults, my Lord, You have been kinder, for want of a better word, to the humans than Gabriel has so far proved. As for what we do once he is dealt with, I don't know, but the decision will be taken by us, not by You.'

He made for the door, freezing as Her hand caught hold his arm.

'Crowley, please,' She said, 'What more can I do?'

He shrugged Her off, 'Leave me be,' he said, 'I'm not Yours any more. My loyalty is and always has been to Aziraphale.'

He headed for the door before She could say another word, slamming it open with more force than necessary, startling all four figures who stood nearby, Michael dropping the meagre pile of firewood in her arms in alarm. 

'Crowley?' said Aziraphale, hurrying to his side, 'What's happened? Are you alright?'

'I'm far from alright,' he said, taking hold of his hand briefly before letting go and heading to Lucifer, 'We need to talk, brother. Alone. Come on.'

The Lord of Hell nodded without a word, his eyes only briefly moving to the van but God failed to emerge from its confines.

'Crowley?' said Aziraphale again, 'What's going on?'

He didn't respond, not knowing how to put his warring feelings into words, instead he carried on into the woods, Lucifer following close behind.


	18. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Lucifer decide upon a new plan for recovering power in Heaven.

Crowley didn't pause in his march into the woods until the sounds of the camp were far behind him, only Lucifer's feet hurrying behind breaking the silence he finally found himself in. He tore off his glasses, stuffing them into his pocket before rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, pressing deeper than necessary and allowing the pain to ground him.

'I am sick to death of chasing people around these woods today,' groused Lucifer as he finally caught him up, 'What happened?'

'God bloody well happened,' snapped Crowley, with a yell of frustration, 'Fucking God and Her fucking non-existent, idiotic bloody plan. Lying, cheating, conniving creature that She is. I've half a mind to take one of the swords the others found and run Her through myself.'

'I take it the conversation didn't go well then,' said Lucifer, stepping back as Crowley turned on him.

'Is this all a joke to you?'

Lucifer frowned, holding his hands up in surrender, 'You know it isn't,' he said, 'Raph...Crowley, what happened? I've not seen you this distressed, not even back at the house in England.'

Crowley hissed through his teeth, running a hand through the length of his hair as he fought to find the words he needed. 'We have been played for fools, you and I,' he said, 'Since the very beginning.'

'A fact I am more than aware of.'

Crowley shook his head, 'Not to this extent,' he said, 'At least, I hope...Lucifer, I need you to tell me as exactly as you can remember it, the conversation you had with God the day She told you that you were bound for Hell.'

'It is not a memory I happily call to mind,' said Lucifer, 'And over six thousand years, not to mention the trauma of the Fall has rendered any retelling of it somewhat inaccurate.'

'As best you can,' said Crowley, 'Please. What comes next relies on it.'

Lucifer rubbed a hand over his face, his eyes falling shut as though trying to hide from the memory he recounted. 'I was called to Her as you know and we both assumed I would to be given the kingdom She had promised me at last.'

'And that kingdom,' said Crowley, 'Had She mentioned it to you before or was it an assumption as me becoming the Prince was?'

'She had said before that day that She planned for me to rule,' said Lucifer, 'Though the word was realm I think, kingdom came later.'

'And did She ever mention me and my position?'

Lucifer shook his head, 'Never directly. The day I went and you left to find Aziraphale, She was agitated. She spoke of you at first, about you and Aziraphale, what you did when you went away with him. I remember telling Her that I didn't know the particulars but that I had never seen you happier than you were when you were with him or spoke of him. After that She chose to hide Her corporeal form, spoke to me as light as She often did when addressing the lower choirs. She said the time had come to serve Her and the humans she was to create as She saw fit. That I would rule the darkness and be responsible for the souls of Man who did not live according to Her law. I asked how. Would there be a place in Heaven where they would be sent? She told me no, that they could never come to Heaven's light and therefore my realm would not touch it either. I asked Her if I was to be left in this darkness alone and She told me of Her plan for the young ones to join me. I argued that I would not go and She tossed me away from Her Presence, told me I would do as She bid and rule when She told me to. The rest you know if you recall finding me. I never spoke to Her again until it came to beg for Her forgiveness before She threw me down. I often wonder if, had I gone quietly, that it would not have hurt as much. That we would not have been as damaged. Had I gone willingly perhaps all my demons would be more like you, retained something of the angels they once were.'

'I think you may be right,' said Crowley, 'And my actions did not help, though I would not retract them, even to spare the others. I would stand again and again in defence of all who Fell that day.'

Lucifer closed the distance between them, taking hold of Crowley's arms, fingers curling above his elbows. 'What did She say to you, brother?' he asked, 'What has brought this on?'

Crowley met the red eyes before him, seeing the echo of the brother he had loved from the day of his creation. 'She had no plan,' he said, 'We have laboured for millennia under the impression that She had some great scheme for the universe. That the Fall, the epochs of Man, Adam and Armageddon were all part of...something that was decided long before even you and I were thought of. I have stood with Her, against my better judgement, for the hope that She has something left to offer this world when Gabriel just wants to destroy it for his own aims but talking to Her, hearing Her go on about how She planned nothing, how She wanted dark and light and you and I were to be part of it but that was it, it has ruined all I believed. Lucifer if we continue on this road, if we seek to place Her back into Heaven then we may as well put the keys to creation in the hands of a two year old.'

'Are you saying we stop?' said Lucifer, 'Leave the world in Gabriel's hands?'

Crowley tore away from him, fisting his hands once more into his hair with a growl, 'I don't know! All this is such a mess. Ever since this started I've hoped... I don't even know what I've hoped but it wasn't this, Lucifer. Did She ever love us? Were we ever more than toys?'

'I cannot answer that,' said Lucifer, 'But I wish I could for your sake alone. This is the reason I took your memories that day, not just to spare you the pain of losing Aziraphale but also because I know, despite how everything ended, you loved Her more than any of us did. I wanted to save you this pain.'

'I wish you had left me ignorant,' said Crowley, 'I was happy believing myself no more than some unfortunate demon who took a wrong turn when I fell from Heaven. Now every breath is a knife and I am crushed by memories and expectations. They all look at me, now they know who I am, like I am something different. I don't want to be different. I want to be the me I was. Even Aziraphale looks at me like he expects something, that I will fix the world for him.'

A small smile curled Lucifer's lips, 'That may have more to do with the fact that you have been fixing the world in his eyes since the day you met again in Eden,' he said, 'And, whether you like it or not, you do have the power to do more than the others. You have demonstrated enough since this journey began.'

Crowley kicked at the trunk of a nearby tree, worrying the bark beneath a fingernail, 'Maybe I don't want to do anything.'

'And you have that choice, as we all do,' said Lucifer, 'But I do not see you walking away, not when you have failed to do so whenever the opportunity has been before you before. Right now you are thinking with your heart rather than your head and I don't mean to shame you for that but it is clouding your judgement. I have had longer in the surer knowledge of what happened which means I can be more objective so I want you to tell me entirely what God told you and then we will look at what it means together.'

Crowley remained silent for a moment, finally picking loose a piece of bark and letting the pungent sap run over his fingers, golden and warm, the blood of a living thing. He had been the architect of its ancestors, great trees that canopied Eden, his legacy still living on Earth as it did in the cosmos within the light of the stars. 

He turned back to Lucifer, seeing his former master standing with a patience that looked almost alien on him but still giving him the time he needed to find the words. He pressed his back to the trunk, sliding down and sitting at the base before staring up into the canopy above him. His words were halting at first but he had soon recounted his conversation with God, not bothering to hide the tears that escaped him as he did. He wasn't sure when Lucifer joined him on the forest floor, nor when the large hand had enfolded his but he was grateful for the grounding grip as the pain washed over him as fresh as it had been in the van.

'It is true,' said Lucifer, when Crowley's words ran dry, 'That I did not realise how little She had planned before the Fall but in the years since... I am not seeking to justify but maybe, and forgive the phrase, I am in the position to play devil's advocate.'

Crowley couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, 'You are probably the most qualified to do so.'

'Quite,' said Lucifer, spinning a pine needle across the fingers of his free hand, 'Whatever She did or did not plan, She was our mistress but one, by Her own admittance, who was not quite prepared for the role. We think of Her as ancient and She is by the standards we would use. Humans would say the same of us but are we not all still finding our own way, I would call us old in the sense of time but I do not feel as old as the humans would have me. Perhaps, as the humans perceive us, we perceive Her. Maybe whatever She is, She was yet young when we fell. Young and stupid as a child.'

Crowley's brow furrowed at the thought, 'So we are to let Her get away with it because She is younger than we thought She was.'

Lucifer shook his head, 'Not at all,' he said, 'But She had an idea of what She wanted, this light and dark represented by you and I, and we changed things. Not just our actions but the actions of all the angels. We guided things, factions grew. If She had a plan would Sandalphon have been able to trouble the younger ones as he did? Would Gabriel have been able to band together his group of Archangels who sought to rule Heaven over you? She did not plan more than She had before, ideas brought to life with a thought. She didn't plan for me to resist my position and She didn't plan for you to fall in love.'

'And so She threw Her toys out of the pram when we did,' said Crowley, 'Neither of us were in the wrong. I could never have denied my heart. I was in love with Aziraphale from the moment I saw him.'

'And rightly so, you were so happy with him but still, She hadn't planned for it and, forgive me, you were both very obvious in your affections, more so than anyone else in Heaven. You who had been so much in God's shadow, suddenly seeking the light of another. Tell me now my brother, should Aziraphale come to love another not romantically but as a sibling, someone bookish and, well, more like him and he wanted to spend more time with them, what would you do?. He may come back to you, love you as fiercely as ever, but could you look me in the eye and tell me that you would not be jealous.'

'My husband is not merely bookish,' said Crowley, before he sighed, 'I would be jealous but I would not hurt him for it.'

'Wouldn't you?' said Lucifer, 'Perhaps not to the extent of torture or a to be sent from you but wouldn't there be a coldness, a loss of trust, point scoring against your rival.'

Crowley growled, 'You are not bringing me round to your argument with this thread you know.'

'All I am saying, is that She had not planned to be jealous and She acted on Her jealousy and yes She was cruel and it was a punishment well beyond the perceived crime but She did not know any different. We were meant to be Hers,' said Lucifer, 'We were the victims of Her vanity.'

Crowley turned his head, studying the profile of the demon beside him, 'You have yet to win Her any points, brother.'

'This isn't a count on the celestial scoreboard with one side set to win,' said Lucifer with a sigh, 'After the Fall, She and I did not speak face to face but She told me She expected me to tempt the children of Adam and Eve, to see if Man would be as disobedient as Her angels had proven. Cheap jibe and it cost Her. I didn't wait for them to bear children, instead I sent my tempter early. I sent you not only because I thought you deserved at least some light but also because I hoped She would recognise you and would see that Her prince would be the downfall of Her new pets. I'm not proud of it.'

'Bollocks you aren't,' laughed Crowley, 'Bet you were devastated when She didn't recognise me.'

'Crowley, She didn't even see you,' said Lucifer, 'The Fall, the magic that I wove to at least give me some control in my own realm, shielded you. She saw a featureless demon.'

Crowley smiled, 'I don't care, I found Aziraphale again.'

'I did wonder for a while if he remembered you despite the changes,' said Lucifer, 'But it was serendipity rather than design on anyone's part and so I did nothing, I was willing to let that story play. After Adam and Eve left Eden and went out into the world, that is when She and I began a meaningful dialogue. While my son was not planned at the beginning of the world he became a plan as it grew, She wanted Mankind tested. Adam, my Adam that is, was to be the catalyst and the conclusion. His behaviour determined what happened. Had he commenced Armageddon by siding with our forces then Man would fall, the war would be fought between Heaven and Hell and we would no doubt have annihilated each other.'

'And then?'

'And then, She would start again. Total reset. The other path though, the one that Adam ended up taking, proved that Man had grown and that it could be trusted continue to grow wisely. Heaven and Hell would remain as it was. By the time She realised who you were, the plan was in motion and we did not speak until it saw its conclusion. She asked if I knew, when we spoke the night after it was decided and I told Her I did and I believed, if She ever wanted to make any sort of amends to you, She would leave you and Aziraphale be. That was the last time we spoke until this all happened. What I'm trying to say is that yes, She had no plan when we Fell but She did have one after and I do believe, despite everything, She is the better option for Heaven than Gabriel could be.'

Crowley ran a hand over his face, 'I know you're right but it is hard,' he said, 'Every time I think I have made progress with Her, I learn something new and my anger grows once more. She hurt me, She nearly cost Aziraphale his innocence and She sent the young ones to a fate they did not deserve and you along with it.'

'She was wrong but can wrongs not be made right?'

'She never gave us a chance to.'

'Then let us be better. Let you and I show Her what should have been done. I have an idea if you will hear it.'

Crowley looked up as Lucifer got to his feet, 'Do I have a choice given that you're already preparing to tell me?'

Lucifer smirked, 'I preferred it when you cowered before me.'

'No you didn't,' said Crowley, seeing the soft smile that was all too alien cross his former master's lips, 'Don't get emotional on me now. I'm meant to be the overwrought one.'

'Over dramatic more like,' said Lucifer, 'But don't distract me. God's plan, weakly prepared as it was, has some merit.'

'In what sense?'

'You and me, ruling, not in opposition but working for the same goal, taking the differing sides of the coin,' said Lucifer, 'Think about it. Heaven and Hell have actually proved they can work to a mutual advantage, even though the outcome was unexpected, when they planned to punish you and Aziraphale for what happened at Armageddon. Yes, it was for the purpose of revenge but negotiations worked and there had been channels between the sides for many years before that. Why don't we bring it out into the open, work together properly?'

'To what end?'

'More to what beginning,' said Lucifer, 'Look, in the early times Heaven was for virtue and Hell was for anything that went against the commandments. Good and Evil defined and very black and white. Since then, morality has changed and things are not so cut and dry but still Hell is populated by souls that are not evil, merely falling short of Heaven's requirements. Could Hell therefore not be used as more than a prison? Souls can be returned to new human corporations, could those that are not truly evil be rehabilitated and returned to live again?'

'Reincarnation?' said Crowley, 'It can't be done. The handful of times She tried it have been failures, the humans remembered too much of their pasts.'

'But we have the power to restrict memory, we have both done it, She has done it,' said Lucifer, 'We can refine it, make it work.'

Crowley held up a hand, 'Hold on,' he said, 'A moment ago our only concern was removing Gabriel from Heaven, now we're reinventing the place. How long have you been thinking about this?'

'Thousands of years,' said Lucifer, 'Why should my realm only be a place of darkness?'

'But you would remain in Hell?' said Crowley, getting to his feet, 'If this is a play for Heaven... because I can't...I won't lead a revolution, not like that.'

Lucifer shook his head, 'I don't want Heaven, Crowley.'

'Neither do I but you seem to have decided that it is my place. I am still a demon, She may have given me the ability to walk on consecrated ground but I am no angel. I have no place in Heaven.'

'She would disagree with you,' said Lucifer, 'Look, it's not perfect but it's a better plan than we had before. Returning Her to Heaven alone will be even more difficult now everyone knows but if we return Her, with the Prince of Heaven at Her side, we have a chance, Crowley. We have a chance to make this right. Believe me, please. I have played my part well for so long, I have had to be cruel and strong because I have had to rule over demons who believe their lot in life is to be cruel as well. Can I not regain something of what I once was? We have a chance.'

'Fuck you actually mean it,' said Crowley, 'You want to do this.'

Lucifer rolled his eyes, 'No I just stood here making it up on the spot,' he said, 'Of course I want this. I've had six thousand years to want this. I've had six thousand years to want you back, Raphael. I've lived with the loss and the regret for so long and you've been there, so close yet a million miles away. I lost my family too and, unlike you, fate never conspired to bring them back to me.'

Crowley held out a hand, closing it tightly around Lucifer's when he reached out in reply. 'Together then,' he said, 'So long as the others are onboard, this is more than us, and I won't stay in Heaven, I won't stay as its ruler. We will need to find someone else if they are unwilling to accept God again. Whatever happens though, you have your family again. Me, Aziraphale, Beelzebub and I think Michael is thawing.'

'And Her,' said Lucifer, 'Maybe in all this, I will find peace with Her. I hope you can too.'

'One day, perhaps. For now, we have a job to do and a future to secure. We should speak to the others. Its time we had a proper plan and I have a few ideas already, least not to buy us some time in getting to Eden.'

'Tell me on the way back,' said Lucifer, loosening his grip on his hand, 'We always were stronger together, my brother.'

xxxx

'Anything?' asked Beelzebub as Michael descended the steps from the van.

She shook her head, 'Not a word, She's just sitting there,' she said, 'I don't know if She's just refusing to talk or if whatever passed between them has left her mute once more. She looks so tired.'

'Crowley looked very distressed when he left,' said Aziraphale, worrying his hands in front of him, 'Perhaps I should go after him.'

'Lucifer is with him,' said Beelzebub, 'And Crowley asked him to follow. Whatever they need to talk about, they'll share with us when they're ready.'

Aziraphale nodded, peering into the woods where Crowley and Lucifer had disappeared. He wanted to follow, certain they would not be too far or too hard to find but he had not been invited. Crowley's request had been very explicit in who he wanted to share his conversation with God with. He twisted the wedding ring on his finger, his eyes drawn back to Michael as she sat down beside Beelzebub, a small, shy smile turning the corners of her lips as the demon prince didn't immediately back away.

'Sorry if I was waspish earlier,' she said, 'The memory thing.'

'Wasn't much fun my end either,' said Beelzebub, 'I've had more comfortable smacks round the head.'

'You used to be able to block when we sparred in Heaven,' said Michael.

'Demons fight a little more dirty. Still, I tend to get the advantage. Perfect height for a low blow. Do you remember the time I took out Gabriel when She was watching. He would not talk to me for ages after that.'

Michael laughed, 'Goodness I do,' she said, 'He went in quite vicious and you took his legs out from under him. He ended up in such a heap. I can remember trying not to laugh.'

'Well if I meet the bastard in combat again, I'll give you a repeat performance and you can laugh all you like,' said Beelzebub, 'I'm after Sandalphon mainly though, he and I have business.'

'Me too,' said Michael with a shudder, 'A wing for a wing.'

Aziraphale frowned, 'Won't that just make everyone flightless?'

Michael looked up at him, 'You want me to spare him?'

'I would hope whatever we're doing can be achieved with as little bloodshed as possible,' he said, 'Enough have died already. Crowley said there were dead angels and demons in the battle.'

'The angels came looking for trouble,' said Beelzebub, 'We're leading a revolution here. If you can't take a bit of bloodshed...'

The shrill ringing from her pocket cut her short and she pulled out the mobile phone, frowning at the screen before she answered the call.

'Speak,' she barked, the gentler tone from moments before immediately dismissed for one more familiar to the prince of Hell, 'Wait! Damned reception is appalling.'

She got to her feet, heading closer to the tree line in an effort to get a better signal, her voice carrying on the breeze but the words were not clear. 

'Do you think I should go into Her?' said Aziraphale, looking over to the camper van where God had taken refuge.

Michael shook her head, 'She'll come out when She's ready I think,' she said rubbing her eyes, 'This is all such a mess and I'm so tired.'

'Sleep,' said Aziraphale, 'You can trust me to keep watch. I'm not much use for anything else right now.'

'I think we all feel a little lost at the moment,' said Michael, 'We seem to take one step forward and two steps back. I don't see how we can get the angels to believe in God again now they remember what She did to your generation. I feel like we've already lost.'

'We can't give up, not yet,' said Aziraphale, 'I can't believe that Gabriel can hold sway forever, the humans won't survive it. We won't survive it. I can't think about it or we won't get anywhere. Even the prophecies are little help.'

Michael frowned, 'With everything that has happened I had almost forgotten about them What is the next one?'

'He will seek to harm the child,' said Aziraphale, 'As I am assuming that the rivals stealing into the halls of men were you and me in the Vatican and the brothers united are Lucifer and Crowley. Perhaps Lucifer would be well placed to ensure the protections around Adam and Anathema are tightened, we don't want them caught up in this any more than they already are.'

'I wish I could say that Gabriel would never hurt an innocent child but he has never liked children. Truth be told he has never liked humans. I can't believe I was so blind to him for so long.'

Aziraphale offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile despite the memories of her support for their now common enemy rushing to the forefront of his mind, 'You were too close, fed the doctrine that suited him. Even I bought into it, though my time on Earth and my friendship with Crowley gave me a slightly different view. I was so convinced Heaven was right for so long and you were far more involved than I ever was.'

Michael held up her hand, 'It still does not justify my behaviour,' she said, 'I can only hope that my actions since his betrayal can help me to make amends, along with whatever comes next.'

Aziraphale didn't have a chance to answer as he heard the crunch of pine needles, followed by faint conversation, Lucifer and Crowley reappearing from the trees, walking close to each other as they spoke. He watched as the Lord of Hell lay a hand on his former subject's shoulder, the touch accompanied by a small nod as they reached the perimeter of their camp. 

'Apologies for the sudden departure, there was much we needed to speak about,' said Lucifer, 'We have a plan but it requires all of you to agree to it for it to work. We need your faith. Where are Beelzebub and God?'

'Beelzebub went in search of phone signal,' said Michael, 'God is inside, She refuses to speak to anyone.'

'I'll go to Her,' said Lucifer, his words directed to Crowley rather than the group as a whole, 'If you are ready.'

Crowley nodded, 'As I'll ever be,' he said, 'I'll find Beelzebub.'

'Let me,' said Michael, getting to her feet and heading off before anyone could argue, slowing her pace as she passed Lucifer on his way to the van.

'Are you alright?' asked Aziraphale as Crowley hovered the opposite side of the fire, his eyes following Lucifer into the van.

The demon shook his head, 'Not really,' he said, crossing the distance between them and sitting on the blanket beside him, 'Things have taken a path I didn't expect.'

Aziraphale reached up, brushing a hand over his hair, 'What happened, love?'

'I dug too deep into my past and now wish I had left well alone.'

'Can I help?' asked the angel, 'Darling, let me help you.'

'Just be here,' said Crowley, 'Stay near to me, angel. You're the only constant in my life right now and I need you to be near to me.'

Aziraphale felt his heart twist in his chest as he heard the catch in his voice, his hand leaving the soft russet hair to wrap around Crowley's shoulders, pulling him close. 'I'm here for as long as you need me.'

'Forever,' said Crowley, 'However long that is.'

'What aren't you telling me, love?' said Aziraphale but there was no accusation in his tone.

'So much,' said Crowley, his words muffled by the angel's shirt as he pressed his face to his shoulder, 'But only because I can't bear to say it twice and you all need to hear it. Plus I know you'll try and talk me out of it.'

Aziraphale frowned, 'Well if you know that I'll try to talk you out of it, why are you doing it?'

'Because I have to,' said Crowley, 'Because right now I'm the only one who can so I have to risk it. I'm not about to leave our future in Gabriel's hands. I need you to trust me, angel.'

'Look at me,' said Aziraphale, fingers brushing likely against the sharp angled cheek to encourage him to meet his gaze, 'Whatever you need from me is yours. Just keep talking to me, I can't help you if I don't know what's going on. We nearly lost each other in Armageddon because we didn't talk and I can't risk that again.'

Crowley nodded, 'I will,' he promised, 'But I need you to prompt me when I drift off. I keep getting stuck in my own head.'

Aziraphale smiled, fingers tracing the outline of the tattoo beside his ear, 'Not much of a change there, beautiful,' he said, the smile failing as he saw the faint flinch on his features at the endearment, 'Crowley?'

The answer was snatched away as Lucifer descended the steps of the van, reaching a hand back to help God down the stairs, Her face drawn and pale but She forced a tremulous smile as She regarded them. 

'Where are the others?' said Lucifer, sitting them down the other side of the fire.

'Not back yet,' said Crowley, 'I can go and look.'

Lucifer shook his head, 'They'll be along,' he said, 'I can hear voices.'

It was several moments before the last members of their company arrived, both their faces wearing worry.

'We have a problem,' said Beelzebub, her words directed to her master, 'Hell is restless. Recent revelations has caused some questions to be asked. We need to address this, we can't risk losing obedience.'

Lucifer nodded, 'We shan't,' he said, 'I am hoping what we wish to put to you now, will ensure Hell will follow us and, if all goes as I envision, enough of Heaven to turn the tide. As of earlier today attempting to just restore God to power will probably result in failure.'

'So we're not going to Eden?' said Michael.

'That's still our destination,' said Crowley, 'Regardless of circumstance it's the closest link to Heaven in this world and we need the power that resides there. It's also the place I created and the residual magic of the miracles I used might help me to regain the strength I had back then. If I'm strong enough to... if I stand as the Prince once more, Heaven may abandon Gabriel in favour of me and then, with Lucifer's help, we can bring a far better balance to the world. The two realms working together for the humans.'

'Heaven and Hell working together?' said Aziraphale.

'We did attempt it, briefly,' said Michael, sharing a look with Beelzebub, 'But it wasn't pursued when it didn't work.'

'When you didn't kill us, you mean,' said Crowley.

'Both sides felt it better to keep to ourselves,' said Beelzebub, 'And I don't know if it would be popular now, especially given that over well over ninety percent of our population is now aware they were condemned for no treason whatsoever.'

'They will unite behind the one angel who stood for them all,' said Lucifer, 'We will give them the Prince and then, when things are steady, we can work on how things move forward. A more progressive relationship, a little more give and take between us all.'

'But that was what I wanted,' said God, quietly, 'The both of you, working side by side, but after...I couldn't...'

'Well then, it's almost a plan,' said Lucifer, gently, 'And I do believe it will work.'

'But you didn't want to be the Prince again,' said Aziraphale, clutching one of Crowley's hands in his, 'You said...'

'Needs must, though I have no wish to remain in any sort of position of authority once this is settled. We will find someone else to fulfil the role in Heaven, if indeed we need to,' said Crowley, looking over to God, 'I am hoping that You will find yourself restored though it will be with the view that Hell is no longer just a place of darkness and pain.'

God shook Her head, 'My place is no longer one of rule,' She said, 'I will stand as the creator and I will stand as help and advice and arbiter of this new world but the rule of Heaven must be held by one equal to Lucifer.'

'It is not ideal,' said Lucifer, 'And there are many factors that could change things but Crowley and I believe this can work. Whilst we may not be a perfect choice, I think together, with your support we can do this. If we move forward in this, we do so together, so if you have any concerns raise them now. My Lord?'

She nodded. 'It was what I wanted from the beginning.'

'Beelzebub?'

'And I have been with you since the beginning,' she said, 'Besides, from what I remember from Heaven, I would be happy to follow both of you. I'm in.'

'Michael?'

The Archangel looked from Lucifer, to God and then to Crowley before she nodded slowly, 'If it will save the world from Gabriel, then I'm with you.'

'Aziraphale?'

The angel remained silent, eyes trained on the ratty blanket beneath him as he worried a loose thread with his fingers.

'Are you with us, love?' asked Crowley, 'Angel?'

He took a shuddering breath, getting quickly to his feet, 'I don't like this,' he said, 'Excuse me.'

'Angel wait!' said Crowley, hurrying to stand and catching hold of his hand, 'Talk to me.'

Aziraphale glared up at him as he realised his words from moments before had been so quickly turned against him. 'You didn't want to be the Prince,' he said again, 'And now... Crowley are you sure? I don't even remember what happened back in Heaven but I have seen you cry, I have seen the fear in you and now you march to it willingly only a few days later.'

'But this time it is on my terms,' said Crowley, 'No cage, everything within my own power. Besides, if anything goes wrong, I have you. You saved me before when all that had passed between us was a kiss, think of what power you wield as my husband.'

'But I can't remember what I did,' said Aziraphale.

'You were there,' said Crowley, 'You called me back without even trying. Trust me, Aziraphale, I can do this and I do it willingly but I need you with me. If you say no, then this stops now and we think again.'

'Raphael!' growled Lucifer but Crowley held up a hand to still any argument.

'No,' he said, 'You said we all had to agree and if Aziraphale doesn't then we think again or does this new world order of yours no longer apply when it goes against your plan?'

'Our plan,' said Lucifer, 'We decided this together.'

'And, as you said, we go forward together or not at all,' said Crowley, turning his attention back to Aziraphale, 'This is your choice and yours alone. Whichever way you go, I'll follow your lead.'

The angel looked down at the joined hands, the slowly setting sun glinting off their wedding rings. 'Are you certain?' he asked, 'Tell me you do this freely, without coercion or under some twisted idea of obligation.'

'I've made the choice myself,' said Crowley, 'Circumstance has forced my hand slightly but this is my choice.'

Aziraphale nodded, 'Then despite my misgivings, I'm with you,' he said, 'But the second I believe you are not the one in control or that you are being used for anyone else's gain, then I will stop it. I won't have you hurt again.'

'With you watching over me, I won't be,' said Crowley, 'Thank you, love.'

'Then we are all agreed,' said Lucifer, 'And may I say, Aziraphale, that I have no intention of allowing anyone to be harmed if I can prevent it. Now we have a plan, we must see it to its conclusion. Hell is our first port of call, for Beelzebub and I at least. We will call them to arms, let them know what we are planning.'

'And what then?' asked Michael, 'What will they do when you have spoken to them?'

Lucifer smiled, 'Ever the soldier,' he said, 'A small party will come here tomorrow morning and we will disguise them as us. They will take the van and head back northwards, making their way to Jerusalem. With a couple of miracles we hope that Heaven might follow them and give us a head start on our own route. The rest we will have prepare to meet us on the outskirts of Eden, a first line of defence if it comes to a battle.'

'It will,' said Michael, 'Even if Heaven turns against him, Gabriel will fight and there are those who will always be loyal to him.'

'Then he will see what Hell is capable of,' said Beelzebub, 'We should go. We'll need to get well clear of the camp before we descend.'

Lucifer nodded, 'We won't be long,' he said, 'But we will send word if anything changes.'

'You would do well to increase the protections around the Anti-Christ,' said Michael, 'Aziraphale said the next prophecy was the one about him.'

'I will,' said Lucifer, getting to his feet, 'Keep safe, you four. We'll be back soon.'

While the others joined in calls of farewell as Beelzebub and Lucifer headed away from the camp to find a safe place to return to Hell, Aziraphale watched silently, keeping his hand tight around Crowley's as he tried to recall how he had saved him in Heaven but the darkness that reigned in his head remained. The faces around him looked on each other with a stronger familiarity than he had seen before, relationships that had begun years ago, awakening anew but he was not a part of them. He squeezed the hand in his once more, feeling Crowley return the touch before a brief kiss was pressed against his temple but it brought the angel little comfort as Crowley led him back to their seat beside the fire.


	19. Reawaken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All. I can't promise updates will be that regular from now until a few weeks time. We now have a moving date of December 2nd and I don't know how much time and internet access I will have but I will be back when I can be. Nova x

Beelzebub tugged at the high collar of her tailored shirt and ornate cravat as she followed a few steps behind her master towards the chamber the demons had been summoned too. She had been surprised, when she had allowed herself to transform back into more familiar clothes, losing the glamour of above, that some of her more demonic traits were missing. The weeping sores did not reappear on her face nor was she surrounded by the familiar buzzing of flies, it was an alien sensation despite having spent several long days in the human world. Still, she looked strong in the outfit she had chosen to be seen in for many years and she felt it necessary to appear so, unsure as to the response they would receive now that the majority of their population knew that they had been condemned for nothing more than their birth.

'Was it always this warm down here?' she groused, tugging again at her collar.

Lucifer shot her a look over his shoulder, 'You were not half angel before,' he said, 'Perhaps Her forgiveness leaves you a little less comfortable here.'

Beelzebub frowned, 'But this is my home,' she said, 'She'll have to condemn me again if heatstroke is going to be the alternative.'

'You don't fancy a spot back in Heaven then?'

'No bloody fear!' she said, 'Skipping about and singing in choirs. I'm a demon and a demon I'm going to stay, even if we are changing what we do a little. Are you thinking about a spot in Heaven?'

Lucifer shook his head, 'No, Heaven holds nothing for me,' he said, 'And much as I did not want this realm when it was given to me, like you say, it is home.'

'And what do you think your subjects will think now they know who they are?'

'Well they will have no love for God still,' said Lucifer, before he ran a hand over his eyes, 'I do not know how this will go but I hope we can encourage them to rally.'

'And if we fail?'

'Then I dread to think,' said Lucifer, 'Gabriel might be starting with the humans but he still wants his war. He will not stop until he has annihilated us.'

'So what do we do?' said Beelzebub, 'If they refuse to follow you and Crowley in this endeavour, do we force them?'

Lucifer shook his head, 'That is not how I want to start this.'

'Best hope we don't fail in this,' said Beelzebub, 'I ordered as many to attend as possible, word will spread afterwards along with the orders to await instruction near to the site of Eden though I don't know how close they will be able to get. We may have been able to enter once but that was before everyone was banished and it was sealed.'

'So long as they are nearby,' said Lucifer, 'They will be our first line of defence.'

'And if the line is broken?'

Lucifer frowned, 'Have you always been this pessimistic?'

'I'm a demon,' said Beelzebub, 'Besides, prepare for the worse. I was ready to lead our troops into the war to end all wars if you remember. I had contingency plans. Only thing I didn't plan for was Adam going native the way he did.'

Lucifer rubbed a hand over his eyes, 'I hope he's alright,' he said, 'He chose another over me but he is still mine. The only soul I have created and I cannot fathom how She created as many as She did. My power was all but spent for months.'

Beelzebub hesitated a moment before she reached out and lay a hand on his shoulder, 'He'll be alright,' she said, 'Hastur maybe a bit of an idiot but he's good in a scrap. Dagon has her head screwed on right though and I'd trust no one else to keep an eye on him. We've sent in another group to watch alongside those that went with them already. Short of putting the boy under house arrest, he is protected as he can be.'

Lucifer nodded, 'I trust that you have done all you can,' he said, as they approached the door to the chamber, 'This is going to change everything.'

'Good,' said Beelzebub, 'After six thousand years I'm starting to struggle to find jobs for people.'

'Well then, let's get it done,' he said, stopping short of pushing open the door as Beelzebub stepped back to fall behind him, 'No, beside me. We go in together. If anything happens to me in the coming days, I want them to know you are the one they must look to afterwards.'

Beelzebub bit back the quite undemonic smile that threatened before she squared her shoulders and stepped up to his side as he pushed open the door to the sea of faces awaiting them.

xxxx

Aziraphale opened his eyes as he felt Crowley shift against his shoulder, 'Is it time for you to take over from Michael?' he said, peering up at the stars above them, 'Doesn't feel that long since she took over from me. I don't need sleep if you want to rest a while longer.'

'It's not time yet,' said Crowley, pressing a little closer against his side, 'Just chilly, I can't sleep.'

'I can see if I can dig out another blanket,' said Aziraphale, 'Or we can head inside.'

Crowley shook his head, 'I've spent enough time in that horrible thing over the last few days,' he said, 'I'll be alright.'

Aziraphale tightened the arm already around the demon's shoulders, bringing up the other to better hold him close to him, 'Better?'

Crowley murmured an affirmative against his shoulder. 'I may not have our bed but I have my soft angel pillow at least.'

The angel in question chuckled, pressing a kiss to the soft red hair, 'And I have my beautiful de...' he trailed off as he felt the increasingly familiar flinch against him, 'Crowley, love, what's wrong?'

'Told you. I'm cold.'

'You weren't cold earlier,' said Aziraphale, 'But you still... have I upset you? Since we came here from the Vatican you seem reticent. You shy away from my touch.'

'I'm not shying away,' said Crowley, tightening his arm at the angel's waist as though to prove a point.

'Because we're all but alone?' said Aziraphale, 'God is asleep, Michael is walking the perimeter and Lucifer and Beelzebub are away. When they are present though it feels as though you do not want to be near me.'

Crowley sat up, his back to him as he clasped his hands around his knees, 'This isn't meant to be a second honeymoon,' he snapped before he rubbed a hand over his face with a sigh, 'I'm sorry, angel, that was uncalled for.'

'Please tell me what's bothering you. I feel like you're drifting away from me,' said Aziraphale, sitting up on his knees, his hand coming to rest against his husband's back, 'I know you and Lucifer were close in Heaven and I'm so happy that you are finding a friend in him again but you've been my best friend for six thousand years and, oh it sounds so terribly selfish, but I'm sad... I'm scared that maybe I'm not enough any more.'

He was glad for the trunk of the tree behind him which saved him from falling backwards as Crowley turned around so swiftly, nearly toppling them both as he grabbed hold of him.

'Don't ever say you're not enough,' said the demon, serpentine eyes wide with horror, 'Aziraphale you are everything and if I've made you think otherwise then I... I've failed you. It's just... I can't... you loved me back then.'

Aziraphale frowned, taking Crowley's face in his hand as he saw him tremble, 'You're not making sense,' he said, 'I love you now, you know I do.'

'But you loved him too.'

'Him? Him, who?'

Crowley closed his eyes. 'Raphael,' he whispered, unable to repress the shudder that ran through him.

'You are Raphael, my darling,' said Aziraphale, 'You're one and the same.'

Crowley shook his head, 'I was so different then,' he said, miserably, a tear breaking loose and falling onto Aziraphale's fingertips, 'I'm the most dreadful husband. Please forgive me.'

'I don't understand. Darling, please don't cry.'

'I know...' began Crowley, his voice faltering, 'I've known since you put the staff in my hand in the Vatican. Something happened, it was like the final link and I haven't told you because I'm so scared. I've lied to you. I've never lied to you before.'

'Alright now, stop it,' said Aziraphale, his tone sharp but his hands gentle as he cradled the demon's face, thumbs brushing away the tears that were chasing their predecessors, 'Tell me exactly what you've lied to me about and I'll decide if it's something that I need to forgive.'

Crowley met his gaze, 'I know how to get your memories back,' he said, 'I've known since the Vatican and I haven't told you because I don't want you to remember how I was back then.'

'But why?'

'Because then I was an angel,' he said, 'And I looked like one. Not like this. I didn't have eyes that had to be hidden from the world, I wasn't twisted and broken from the fall or from the snake she made me into. I was... I was better back then and I don't want you to remember me like that and then look at what I am now and regret that you got lumbered with the consolation prize.'

The demon tried to pull away, his cheeks heating beneath Aziraphale's hands with his shame but the angel held him fast, stilling him until he was confident he would not move, releasing a hand to run over the soft strands of red hair. 

'You are the most foolish creature I have ever known,' he said, pressing a kiss to Crowley's forehead to take the sting from his words, 'I do not care what you looked like in Heaven, or how the Fall changed you. I love you, exactly as you are and you could not be more beautiful in my eyes. Answer me this, if I Fell...'

Crowley's eyes snapped up to his, 'Never, you'll never Fall, I'd never let it happen.'

'Let me finish,' said Aziraphale, 'If I Fell and I came to you injured, scarred, altered from the angel you had known, would you turn me away?'

'You know I wouldn't.'

'Then why would you think I am going to turn away from the most wonderful thing in my life because you were hurt? I've already seen shadows of the old you in your wings, those beautiful silver wings, and do you know what? I miss your black feathers because they're the ones that have held me, sheltered me, they're the ones that are the polar opposite of mine and yet they fit us so perfectly. I loved you as Raphael though I might not remember it but I know I love you as Crowley more than I could ever love anyone else and because of that, I won't push you. You waited six thousand years for me, it's only right that I wait for you. When you're ready to let me remember, you just let know but until then, don't shy away from me, don't think my touch, my affection is something to be lost.'

'You'd sacrifice your memories for me?'

'I would sacrifice my life for you, what's a few memories?' said Aziraphale, 'I have plenty and the ones involving you, especially in the last four years, are enough for me.'

Crowley dropped his gaze once more, pressing his forehead over Aziraphale's heart, 'I am so unworthy.'

'You're perfect, exactly as you are. Look at me, please?'

It was several moments before Crowley raised his head, shame and relief warring in his gaze. Aziraphale smiled, stroking a hand over the sharp angles of his cheeks, chasing away the evidence of his tears. 

'There now,' he said, 'You're not quite so beautiful when you're all splotchy but you still look gorgeous to me. Tell me you believe me, darling. I need to know that you understand that my love is not dictated by your looks alone.'

Crowley nodded, 'I know and I believe you,' he said, pressing his cheek into the hand that still held him, 'I'm terrified but I... let me try to give them back to you.'

'Only if you are sure,' said Aziraphale, 'I want your happiness more than I want any memories.'

'Not even the memory of our first kiss,' said Crowley, a little of his confidence returning with the words.

Aziraphale was grateful for the thin moonlight they had to see by as he felt the blush rise to his cheeks, 'Well...' he said, 'I can't say it wouldn't be nice to know but I don't want you to rush, we've got enough to deal with. Can I... let me just hold you for a while.'

Crowley moved until he was once more resting against his shoulder, Aziraphale's fingers returning to their steady pattern through his hair as he pressed a kiss to his forehead.

'My beautiful husband,' murmured the angel, smiling as Crowley failed to flinch at the words, 'Rest some more if you can.' 

'Michael will be looking for me before too long.'

Aziraphale tightened his arms, 'Well, you're mine,' he said, 'Besides, she seems to have eyes more for Lucifer than you.'

Crowley laughed, 'You've noticed that too then?'

'Don't go teasing either of them,' said Aziraphale, 'It appears rather delicate.'

Crowley looked over his shoulder to the faint outline of God where She still slept quietly the other side of the fire, 'Plus unions were never exactly smiled upon and we were both angels when She separated us.'

'She seems to have softened.'

'We're valuable to Her at the moment,' said Crowley, 'I still don't trust Her fully.'

'I know but right now we need to at least try to pull together, especially if Hell abandons us.'

'If we have a hope of anyone standing with us since She restored their memories, then it's them,' said Crowley, 'They'll remember who stood for them and follow what they say. Both Lucifer and Beelzebub were their champions.'

'And you,' said Aziraphale, 'You stood for them too.'

'I'm afraid my persuasion was a little more specific. I can't honestly say that if She had offered me your life in exchange for theirs that I wouldn't have taken it.'

'Maybe,' said Aziraphale, 'But you would have fought to restore them afterwards. I know you well enough to be certain of that.'

Crowley was a silent, fingers finding his husband's hand and tracing the wedding band he had been so proud to place there. The rhythm was hypnotic enough that Aziraphale felt his eyes begin to droop, a comfy doze falling over him as the worry of the day started to fade in at least some respects. He smiled as he felt Crowley shift in his arms, pressing his face into his neck.

'Let's do it,' murmured the demon, looking up as Aziraphale laughed, 'What?'

'Well those three words coming out of your mouth can mean anything from opening a bottle of wine to all our clothes coming off and an inventive use of our corporations,' said Aziraphale, 'And given that our creator is no more than a yard and a half away I must say, tempting as the prospect is, I am not doing anything that involves losing my clothing with the risk of Her being able to see.'

Crowley laid a kiss just below his ear before he spoke. 'Well, if you buy into the entirely omnipotent view of Her, She's always watching and therefore it is nothing She hasn't seen before. For all we know She was watching that night we got the suite at the Ritz and you...'

'End that statement there, my love, if you please,' said Aziraphale, tugging gently on the ends of his hair, 'Or I shan't do it to you again.'

'Yeah you will,' said Crowley before he sat up, 'But at this point I'm not actually thinking along those lines but more about memories. I'm still scared but now is as good a time as any.'

'Only if you're ready,' said Aziraphale, 'And I'd hate to slow us up if I need to recover as you did.'

Crowley smiled, 'I don't think it will be as bad for you,' he said, 'Lucifer had to work quickly and we were Falling as it took affect. When I took your memories I was as gentle as I could be. They're not all happy memories but I hope they're nowhere near as traumatic. Just promise me...'

Aziraphale cut him off, taking his face in his hands and kissing him. 'Love you, regardless. There is nothing you could reveal to me that would stop me loving you,' he said, 'If you're ready then I am. How do we do it?'

'Lie down,' said Crowley, 'I hit the deck pretty hard when Lucifer gave me my memories back and we're both beaten up enough as it is'

Aziraphale shifted, lying back on the thin blanket, Crowley rolling up another to place underneath his head. The demons hands trembled a little as he straightened his bowtie and then smoothed a finger over the buttons of his shirt, straightening the fabric as best he could.

'Comfy?'

'As best I can be,' said Aziraphale, 'I was never one for camping.'

'When this is done I'll book us that suite again at the Ritz, let you lose yourself in that ridiculously soft bed.'

'So long as you're with me,' said the angel, 'Do you need me to do anything?'

Crowley shook his head, 'Just relax and I'll.... just stop me, if you can't speak then punch me or something. If anything hurts or feels strange, just stop me ok. I don't want to hurt you and I'm doing this on memories that are so old.'

'You're rambling, love,' said Aziraphale, taking hold of Crowley's hands as they continued to fret over him.

'Sorry,' muttered the demon, 'Alright. I'm alright. One more kiss and then... time.'

Aziraphale met him gladly, pouring as much of his affection as he could into the simple touch in the hope of reassuring him before he lay back, letting his eyes fall shut as he felt Crowley's lips press to his brow. He waited, feeling the tension in the body knelt above him, until he all he could do was reach out, finding his hand and weaving their fingers together.

It was the push Crowley needed, lips moving softly before they formed words.

'Remember. Remember me.'

For a moment the words were no more than that but then he felt the intent and the power behind them. The magic was familiar but more potent and he resisted it for a second before he let it flow through him, the power gentle and his mind became blank in response to the bright white light. At first he felt nothing, just a familiar safety that he had grown used to since they had opened themselves up to one another but it was short lived as he felt the magic forcing him to open his eyes. 

It was not the forest that was before him or the beloved serpentine eyes but he recognised the colour of them all the same. Golden, beautiful eyes, round and more like those the other angels wore, were framed by a familiar handsome face though it appeared younger, fresher. Flame coloured hair tumbled in gentle curls onto white robes, shot through with sigils of gold that matched the faint marks upon his skin. 

He wanted to speak, to reach out and touch but the brief moment of recognition became a flash of memory moving all too fast. He remembered the angel that had been there when he had awoken, the beautiful Raphael who had made no indication of who he was but had shown him a gentleness that had fast become alien. He saw torments again as he recalled Sandalphon's teachings, the pain in his wing and the searing agony of the injury inflicted upon him when his pace would not increase despite all he tried. Gentleness came again when he had been found by the angel he now knew as the Prince of Heaven from the rumours that abounded but it was Raphael that healed him, Raphael who carried him to the stars and bore him a nebula and then a star before they created one together, hand in hand and heart to heart he was sure. 

From there was beauty and love, warm arms and kind conversation, a closeness borne from days in Eden and Heaven though time itself had yet to begin. The promise of eternal companionship, sealed with a kiss beneath the tree that would hold the fate of so many. Tears fell unbidden as the time after played behind his eyes, his happiness turned to despair as the Prince was revealed to the amazement of all. All lauded his beauty, the gilded, golden Prince with his halo of fire, his adornments of gold, his joyous tears of diamonds and rubies that were coveted and collected as he passed silently through Heaven on a never ending path. Aziraphale saw him differently though, saw the fire that burned him, the chains that bound him, the tears that fell ceaselessly in his grief. His heart broke at the sight but he could not get near to him, his choir called away and he was forced to follow. Eyes constantly watched him, Archangels blocking his path whenever he tried to escape.

It was Lucifer and the dark, terrifying talk of rebellion that finally gave him his chance and he slipped his jailers, for he knew them to be such even though nothing was said of his supposed crime, and fought his way through Heaven until he found the crowd that always surrounded the Prince. He waited in the throng, stumbling over the angels who scrabbled and fought to collect the jewels that fell from the weeping Seraph, binding them into coronets and necklaces whilst begging for blessings. None of them touched him with kindness or love, only with want, greedy hands on the body that Aziraphale had longed to spell his name on in love. When finally he grew close enough he took hold of his hand, entwining their fingers and walking beside him as they had done in both Heaven and Eden, asking for nothing but his presence. Only when they had some semblance of privacy did he dare more, taking hold of the beloved face, the golden eyes blind to him and the lips unmoving, but he sensed a recognition. Raising himself as close as he could, he whispered his plea and his promise into his beloved's ear, praying that he would be heard before the growing crowds forced him to flee. 

Agony came next, agony as Sandalphon discovered him missing. Fists rather than blades meted out his punishment, leaving him in pain for far too long with no one to care or help him. His only hope came when the summons announced that they were to finally be given their calling, hope that God would realise Raphael's wishes. The talk of the rebellion was so terrifying that he longed for the presence of his creator and did not stop to question as he was herded towards his fate.

It was only the broken, torn and bloodied figure racing towards him that gave him pause, the flame red hair like a beacon that caught the attention of the angels he all but knocked aside in his frantic search. Wild golden eyes found his and it did not even take a moment's thought for Aziraphale to open his wings to shelter his love from prying eyes. He used all his strength to take them to Eden, their landing rough and he heard the shatter of bone as one of Raphael's silver wings broke under the weight of them both. 

He would take the agony of every beating if it meant he did not have to hear the words Raphael spoke next, tales of cages and torture and angels bred for a dark fate. He begged for it not to be true but saw the reality in the eyes before him, terror in the face that had once been so carefree. The worst of it all came when he knew his own fate, not at God's hand but at his lover's, doomed to forget in order to save himself. Soft words and a desperate kiss was the last he knew before he awoke in Eden to an angel he did not know handing him a sword on God's behalf and sending him to the eastern gate of the garden.

The white light in his head that had brought such terror and such beauty to him began to withdraw and he followed it, longing for the comfort it promised as the past and the present fought for dominance in his mind, his heart searching in desperation for its mate.

'Aziraphale. Aziraphale, love, I'm here. You're safe, I'm with you. It's just a memory. I'm here and you're safe.'

Hands took hold of him, reminding him that he was in possession of a body, hands that he knew better than anyone and they held him make the connection, pulling him back from the memories that wanted to keep tight hold of him. 

He forced his eyes open, senses startling as they awoke. The scent of pine was overwhelming, the chill of a night air biting even through his clothes, but it was his sight that was most awakened. The face before him was so achingly familiar with its shoulder length red hair, sharp angles and snake-like eyes. It was the face he had loved for six thousand years but behind it he saw the echoes of the angel he had been, the angel who had fought for him despite everything that stood against them and lost so much for it. The pain of their final meeting as the angels they had both once been stabbed at him and he reached up, taking his face in shaking hands before dragging him down into a kiss that he hoped said more than words ever could.

'You. It's you,' he said between kisses, 'I was so afraid and it... you told me but to see you... my love, my dearest. You were so brave and you found me. Crowley, you... oh how I loved you and it's only grown stronger. You are so extraordinary. I can't...'

'Hush, it's alright,' said the demon, 'Did it hurt at all? Do you remember? You were gone a while.'

'Only my heart,' said Aziraphale, using his grip on Crowley's jacket to pull himself up to sitting, 'She hurt you so much. They kept me from you. I wanted to get to you.'

He was grateful for the arms that came around him as his tears broke, pressing his face into Crowley's neck and seeking out the comfort of the familiar scent of his skin, unchanged he realised now he remembered being as close to him in Eden. He was slow to calm, his tears renewing each time his mind threw up another recollection but Crowley was steady against him throughout, holding on to him and grounding him whenever the memories attempted the swallow him. He heard other voices, quickly followed by a dismissal from the demon, but he paid them no mind. 

When he felt his grip on reality strengthen, he dared to open his eyes but didn't emerge from the warm cocoon of his husband's arms.

'Love you,' he said, 'Then and now. Angel and demon. But you were wrong about one thing. You are even more beautiful to me now because every change, every scar is there because of how much you loved me.'

'I'd do it again, a million times over,' said Crowley.

'You kept your promise. You returned to me.'

Crowley nodded, 'Took the long way around but I told you I would,' he said, 'There is not a part of you that is not a part of me.'

'Those last moments in Eden were the worst of my life. I thought I would never see you again. I thought She would put you in that terrible cage, make you walk Heaven again. I was so scared right up until the moment I forgot. Darling Crowley, my wonderful Raphael, my beloved show off.'

'I guess some things didn't really change,' said Crowley, fingers lifting the angel's chin so he could meet his gaze, wiping away the tears that lingered on his cheeks, 'Now we know everything. Are you alright?'

'A headache but I'm fine, if a little overwhelmed,' said Aziraphale, 'Tired though but I don't want to sleep, the others...'

'Are back,' said Crowley, 'And I've been granted a pass for my watch. Hell is with us but I'll tell you more when you're rested. Lie down with me and sleep, I won't go anywhere.'

'Promise?'

'I promise, angel,' said Crowley, settling them both back down on the pine needle bed, 'I'll be here when you wake.'

The fatigue was swift as Aziraphale pillowed his head on his husband's chest, hearing the familiar rustle of feathers as warm, large wings settled around him. They were not the black he loved best but they were the silver-grey he'd loved once and he took comfort in them, allowing them to conjure only the happier of his memories as his body succumbed to sleep.


	20. High Seas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this has taken me so long to update. We moved house in panto season (I work in a theatre so it's busy busy), then our ISP failed to get us up and running for over a month. I also lost my lovely Grandad after a long period of ill health so writing was the last thing on my mind. I should hopefully slowly get back on a decent schedule with this though. I hope you are still with me and enjoy the chapter.

Crowley folded away his wings and looked up as a chipped mug, clearly from the cupboards within the van, was placed beside the makeshift bed he shared with his husband on the forest floor.

'Thanks,' he said, his voice quiet to avoid waking the sleeping angel, 'What time is it?'

'Around four,' said Lucifer, 'The sun will be up soon. You'll need to wake him. The ships have been given clearance to move again and ours sails at midday.'

'How long will it take us to get to the port?'

'Hour or so on foot,' said Lucifer.

'I'll let him rest a little longer, it's not an easy process,' said Crowley, 'At least I was able to take them gently so giving them back wasn't too traumatic.'

Lucifer smiled sadly, 'You had more time than I did with you,' he said, 'At least we are all on the same page now. As equal a footing as we can be.'

'And Hell is with us? You said as much when you came back but I was a little distracted.'

'And rightly so,' said Lucifer, pulling the threadbare blanket a little further up onto Aziraphale's shoulder as it slipped down, 'He needed you more than we did. But yes, Hell is with us. Whilst they are angry at what was done to them, they know that you, Beelzebub and I were on their side. They will follow us. We already have six with us though they are a little way deeper into the wood, they'll come to camp when the sun comes up. Thought it best if we kept them away from Her for a while.'

'You'd be better off keeping me away from Her,' mumbled Aziraphale against Crowley's shoulder, 'I'm angry too.'

'Didn't know you were awake,' said Crowley, 'How are you feeling?'

'You two don't know how to whisper,' said the angel, tugging the blanket up until it was almost covering his face, 'And I'm fine, just a slight headache. I would prefer to stay horizontal for a while longer though.'

'I'll make myself scarce,' said Lucifer, reaching out a placing a hand on the blond hair visible above the blanket, 'Rest and get stronger, young one.'

'Still not a child,' grumbled Aziraphale, his hand emerging from the blanket and capturing Lucifer's fingers as he started to move away, 'Thank you for being on my side too.'

'You made him smile when no one else could,' said Lucifer, 'We'll have time to talk later, the voyage to Egypt is over two days long. Rest now. I'll bring breakfast over when Beelzebub has wrestled it into submission. I would suggest not getting your hopes up.'

'I doubt any of us could do much better,' said Crowley, turning his attention back to the angel in his arms as Lucifer got to his feet and headed back towards the fire, 'Go back to sleep if you want.'

'I have slept more since we started this than I have in the last millennia,' said Aziraphale, 'I'm fine, just keen to stay here for a while. You still smell of home.'

Crowley laughed, 'Didn't realise home smelt like a ratty old van and however many days we've been on the road now.'

Aziraphale poked him, 'Hush you,' he said, raising his head from its place on his shoulder, 'Thank you by the way, for the memories.'

Crowley snorted, 'That sounds like a really bad line from a black and white movie,' he said, before he ran the backs of his fingers over his cheek, 'But you're welcome. Love me still?'

Aziraphale smiled, 'Oh completely,' he said, 'More than ever. I did get to fall in love with you twice after all. You must be doing something right.'

Crowley covered his husband's face with his hand, pushing him gently back onto the ground, 'Dreadful,' he said, leaning over him with a laugh, 'Soppy old angel.'

'Less of the old, you,' said Aziraphale, 'I am now fully in possession of the memory that I am most definitely younger. Things are still a little jumbled in my head though, some memories aren't completely clear.'

'It'll take some time. Just let them come when they're ready, they'll sort themselves out. Mine did. We can take some time when we're sailing, Lucifer said it was two days travel at least.'

'Did I hear him say that there are other demons joining us?'

Crowley nodded, 'Our decoys,' he said, 'They'll take the van and head overland towards Jerusalem, hopefully it will throw Heaven off enough, give us a bit of a clear run on to Eden. It's not fool proof.'

'It's something,' said Aziraphale, 'We still have so far to go. Even when we hit Africa it could take weeks in travel alone, not least trying to locate the Garden itself. It's sealed and its position has been lost to all memory.'

'I'll find it,' said Crowley, 'I built a lot of it. There's so much of me in there and I know I can find it. Ugh! Now I sound like a dodgy film.'

Aziraphale laughed, 'Well then, we make a good pair,' he said, trying to peer over to the fire as the faint sound of swearing drifted over to them, 'We should probably help.'

Crowley dropped down beside him, laying his head on his chest, 'She can handle it,' he said, 'And I'm comfy here. Paint your name on me, like you wanted to in Eden.'

Aziraphale tilted his face up to his, brushing several loose strands of hair back behind his ear before he stroked his fingers over the sharp angle of his cheek. The angel smiled as the faintest shimmer of gold danced briefly beneath the path of his fingertips before disappearing once more. 'This could be fun,' he said, 'Does it work everywhere?'

Crowley laughed, 'Bit public but I'm game if you are.'

'Crowley!' said Aziraphale with a blush, 'Wicked boy.'

'You started it,' said the demon, settling himself back down against his chest, 'Just wait until we're alone again.'

Aziraphale's response was cut off by a tirade of creative language from the Prince of Hell followed by the sound of a pot being upturned. Crowley flinched as he sat up, looking over to see Beelzebub stalking away from the fire as Michael looked on in confusion at the mess before her.

'You know what you said about helping?'

'Come on,' said Aziraphale, 'Hopefully whatever bucket we're setting out onto the sea in will have a cabin and we can resume this later. For now, let's try to save breakfast.'

xxxx

Aziraphale was determined that he would never again underestimate Beelzebub and the things she and her demons were capable of. They had left their camp in the woods just after dawn, six demons who Aziraphale had recognised as his fledgling kin, taking the van that had carried them from London in the hope of drawing Heaven's gaze towards Jerusalem rather than southwards to Africa and Eden. It had not been the demons that had astonished him though, instead it had been the sight of the huge cruise ship that would bear them over the sea where he had been expecting a much smaller vessel. 

They had been met just outside the port by another couple in her charge, numbered blue stickers quickly stuck on their lapels before they were bustled towards an incoming coach party and encouraged to mingle within the crowd that left it, the humans wearing the same blue stickers as their supernatural counterparts. The plan became apparent when they boarded the ship without challenge, the stickers, the group and a little demonic influence on the paperwork meaning they were welcomed like any other passenger that had been on a morning's excursion. 

Once they were on the ship, Beelzebub had produced three key cards, thankfully bearing the name of their deck and room number, the three cabins next to one another but Aziraphale was grateful to discover that there were no connecting doors. The decision was taken to remain in the cabins until the ship sailed, the sea hopefully giving them another barrier between themselves and whoever from Heaven may have remained on the main land. Aziraphale paid little mind to how the others situated themselves in the other two rooms, the anger he felt towards God still simmering within him, and glad to be out of Her immediate company for a length of time. 

The cabin was small but well appointed, a double bed with a couple of occasional chairs beside a small dresser making up the majority of the furniture. The bathroom was tiny but any failing was made up for by the balcony which would afford them unrestricted views of the sea once they set sail. Crowley, who had somehow managed to board the ship carrying his staff whilst the other weapons had been carefully stashed beneath the comically floaty skirts Michael, God and Beelzebub had been forced to wear for the boarding, had soon stretched himself out on the bed, ideally flipping through the channels on the television mounted to the wall. 

'Well you're sorted,' drawled the demon, 'Twenty-four hour room service and it's free.'

'Even if it wasn't, I believe we are on the bank of Hell,' said Aziraphale, 'How long until we sail?'

Crowley lazily looked at his watch, 'An hour,' he said, 'Then we'll head for lunch and start making plans for when we get to Egypt. I might like the heat but I am not marching through it for weeks.'

'We might not have the luxury of choice,' said Aziraphale, 'The very nature of Eden would suggest it is somewhere not easily accessible any more. This is only going to get harder.'

Crowley snorted, 'And you're usually the optimist.'

Aziraphale forced a smile, sitting on the bed beside him, 'I'll be in a better mood after lunch, I promise. Breakfast was...'

'Appalling,' said Crowley, 'Note for future adventures, don't leave Beelzebub in charge of the food.'

'Quite,' said Aziraphale, worrying a thread on the comforter between his fingers, 'I'm really starting to miss home.'

'Me too,' said Crowley, 'I suppose this travelling thing does have a few moments in its favour though.'

'How so?' asked Aziraphale, brushing absently at a faint grass stain on his knee.

'We got to see Beelzebub in a frock today and I am not letting her live it down for the next millennia or two at least.'

Aziraphale laughed, 'She did look rather put out,' he said, 'I was terrified the humans were going to find those weapons.'

'She had probably worked some sort of perception filter into our bookings,' said Crowley, 'She's always been very thorough. It's what made her dangerous. I was just lucky she wasn't too concerned with me most of the time. Remember St James' Park, the day I asked you for the holy water?'

'Not a moment I'm likely to forget. Why?'

'She was sniffing around me, asking me about what I knew about Heavenly activities,' said Crowley, 'Until then I never cared. They were never bothered about me but the second she took interest, I got worried. I'm glad she's on our side for this one.' 

'I still wish we didn't need to have a side other than our own,' said Aziraphale, with a mirthless laugh, 'Deary me, I am maudlin today.'

'You need some decent food, a decent rest and a decent shag,' said Crowley, smiling as the angel's laugh was finally genuine.

'I'm sure you're more than happy to help with the latter.'

Crowley snorted, 'Well I'm not about to send you to any of the others.'

Aziraphale wrinkled his nose with a moue of displeasure, 'There is not a single one of that number that would even...no, just no,' he said, 'That is a mental image I did not need, thank you husband.'

Crowley laughed, 'Well it's better than you being morose,' he said, taking hold of his hand, 'We'll be alright, sweetheart. Trust me. Come on, huge ship to explore.'

'I thought we were meant to stay put until lunch.'

Crowley grinned, 'Well that's what we've been told to do but from what I gather from the floor guide in the lift on the way up here there is both a patisserie and a library on the atrium floor so...'

'I suppose,' said Aziraphale, getting to his feet, 'That it would be prudent to get the lay of the land for strategic purposes.'

Crowley followed him, grabbing his hand as they headed to the cabin door. 

They spent the remaining hour between the library and the patisserie though Crowley was certain it was only the disdainful breakfast that had given the patisserie any sort of chance over the small but, in Aziraphale's words, quite impressive collection of books held with the ship's library. They left the atrium as the announcement came over the tannoy that they were setting sail and headed towards one of the vast restaurants where they had agreed to meet the others. 

Aziraphale held a little tighter onto his husband's hand as they saw the other four waiting for them at the table, the only chairs left available left beside God and Beelzebub. Despite his displeasure, he settled himself in the one next to God, allowing Crowley the more palatable position next to Beelzebub. 

'I was beginning to think you weren't planning on joining us,' said Lucifer, 'Funny that we had agreed to all head here together.'

Crowley grinned, 'We left a little early,' he said, 'Now would you like to argue about that or shall we get on with planning?'

Michael laid a hand on Lucifer's arm, 'Planning,' she said, 'We have to not only decide what to do once we get to Egypt but also what we do when we get to Eden.'

'Well that makes it sound so easy,' said Beelzebub, spinning the stem of her wine glass between her fingers, 'We don't even know where exactly we need to go.'

'We will know, the closer we get,' said God, 'It will call to us.'

'Will it call to Gabriel too?' said Aziraphale, 'If the decoy doesn't work then we will lead him directly to it and if he gets inside before we do...'

'He won't,' said Crowley, 'Not only are to walls sealed but I know... I know that garden. She'll be on our side. She was made to protect humanity in its infancy, she'll protect it now.'

Michael frowned, 'You sound so sure.'

'That's because I am,' said Crowley, 'Don't ask me to explain it but the closer we get...'

'It was your creation in the most part,' said God, 'Your child, as were the stars, and it will reach for you.'

Aziraphale watched the emotion pass quickly over his husband's face, glad when the waitress appeared at their table and broke the conversation with menus and discussions on the wines they were serving. Talk returned to Egypt as food was ordered and delivered, the decision taken that it would be wiser to decide on transportation and direction once they arrived, the hope remaining that either God or Crowley would have a better sense of where they needed to go. As the meal progressed though, they moved onto Eden and the defence of it should Gabriel try to meet them in battle there, the salt and pepper shakers amongst other table furniture soon becoming pawns in the odd game of chess they were playing out between them.

'You're wrong!' exclaimed Michael with a huff as Beelzebub moved the dessert spoons that were representing the forces of Hell within the imaginary wall of Eden, 'We need troops inside but not all of them, we will need the majority to hold the perimeter.'

'Be cannon fodder you mean,' said Beelzebub, 'Let the demons take the brunt of the Heaven's attack.'

'We haven't exactly got enough angels on our side to mount a defence otherwise,' said Crowley, 'I'm with Michael on this one. If we're all inside they'll be through the walls before we know it, forces outside will buy us time.'

'And risk lives.'

'We're risking that already, Beelzebub,' said Lucifer, 'All we can hope is that Eden does what we hope it will and God is restored quickly enough to tip the balance in our favour so that the loss is as minimal as possible.'

'We can hope as well that those following Gabriel may change sides once they see their prince fights with Hell,' said God, Her hand lifting but She appeared to think better of Her actions and returned it to the tabletop. 

Crowley frowned, 'I was not their prince,' he said, 'I stood for the angels that Fell, a side they didn't choose to fight for.'

'Some of that may have been through ignorance rather than intent,' said Aziraphale, 'Even I, who was one of the potential victims of the event, didn't know the extent of it until you told me what was happening. We were marching willingly to our fate despite Lucifer's warnings. We can hope there are some who will side with us.'

'We won't know until we are there,' said Lucifer, 'Before we had communication with Heaven but that has been all but severed since Gabriel took power. I no longer have the resources to read our opposition. I was always part of the plan before.'

Michael reached out and moved the dessert spoon troops outside of the walls once more, 'Our best choice is a strong defence,' she said, 'I'll stand with them, lead the charge.'

Beelzebub snorted, 'You?'

'Yes, me,' said Michael, 'I'm the warrior of God and even without the strength of my angelic form I still hold every memory and every skill that was placed in my head when She named me such. Out of all of us I am the most prepared for a battle. Besides, it may gain us more favour in both camps if I am seen to stand with our side.'

'You'll be killed,' said the Prince of Hell.

Michael smiled sadly, 'But it will be with honour.'

Lucifer held up a hand, 'Let's not think on that,' he said, 'For any of us. I have to agree with Michael on the logic of her standing with our forces though, she may sway the tide.'

'We can hope,' said Crowley, 'If nothing was changed since I began the structure, there are some caves within the Garden which we could fortify.'

Michael shook her head, 'The last thing you want is a wall at your back,' she said, 'Gabriel won't lay siege to Eden, he knows the Garden will provide for us but a cave could prove a danger. We don't know how our powers will work in there. While it strengthens us, it might strengthen them as well.'

'I'll concede to you on that,' said Crowley, 'To be fair, I'm flying blind. I've only ever fought when I had to and I have a feeling this may all get a little more medieval than the modern warfare we have grown used to with humans.'

'If I may,' said Aziraphale, 'Whilst my experience of war is also as limited I can make it, I have read extensively and may be able to offer up some strategies that I have studied.'

He resisted the urge to close his eyes and flinch as a few too many beats of silence followed his offer, the all too familiar finger of dread creeping up the back of his neck.

'That would be useful, thank you,' said Michael, 'They will fight as angels know how to fight, having some human tricks would certainly be an advantage. We will have to find some time to consult between now and when we reach our port.'

Aziraphale let out the breath he had been holding, feeling the familiar slide of Crowley's fingers over his own as the demon sensed his anxiety. 'Whenever suits you best,' he said, meeting her gaze and seeing the small smile of understanding and apology on her face, 'I'll help wherever I can.'

'Sharing our expertise is the best way to counter them,' said Lucifer, 'Monopolise on uniqueness.'

Crowley snorted, 'Isn't long since we were penalised for it.'

'You were neither of you in any danger,' said God, 'We were ready to step in but your swap meant we did not need to.' 

'We should never had had to endure it, swap or not,' said Aziraphale, 'It was the worst night of my life when we were waiting to see what would happen.'

Crowley tightened his grip on his hand, 'Not all of it was bad,' he said, 'Got my first hug off you that night.'

Aziraphale turned to smile at him but it turned to a frown as Beelzebub groaned. 'Really, my dear,' he said, 'You may not appreciate our relationship but I would prefer...'

'Don't give a damn about who you're shagging,' she said, leaning back in her chair, 'The way this ship is swaying about though...'

Lucifer frowned, 'We barely feel like we're moving.'

Beelzebub glared at him, 'Speak for yourself,' she said, 'I need to miracle this away or this isn't going to be pretty.'

'We can't risk any miracles,' said Crowley, 'Best you find a bathroom and ride it out that way.'

'The human way?' said Beelzebub, before she groaned again, 'But that's disgusting.'

'Well if that's the case can you please take Crowley's advice and find a bathroom,' said Michael, 'Human warfare I can contend with. Bodily functions are another thing. I can barely manage with what mine needs to do at the moment.'

Aziraphale grimaced, 'At the dinner table? Must we?'

God chuckled softly before She got to Her feet, 'Come along, child,' She said, 'I'll take you back to your room. You four are better placed to discuss our defence. I will find you if we need assistance.'

It was testament to her suffering that Beelzebub offered no resistance as she was helped to her feet and led from the room, well wishes following behind her before silence fell on the table once more. It was Michael that broke it, surprising them all by asking Aziraphale to go through some of his ideas for their defence and he happily obliged after a discreet kick from Crowley broke his own stunned silence. 

They had barely scratched the surface when they found themselves invited to leave by the serving staff but it didn't deter them as they took to the promenade deck, walking around in the warm sunshine as they discussed their plans in more detail. It was when Lucifer and Michael had got a few steps ahead of them, a heated debate flaring between them as to the best use of Hell's forces should their first defences be breached, that Crowley rather loudly announced that Aziraphale's shoe was untied before pulling the angel in question to a halt.

'My dear, my shoe is fine,' said Aziraphale as Crowley quickly held a finger to his lips.

'Just play along,' he said, pulling him over to the bench set back on the deck.

Aziraphale frowned, 'What's going on?'

Crowley nodded towards the retreating backs of their companions. 'Let's just say, I'd prefer them to be gallant enough to give us some space should we need it.'

'They appear to be arguing rather than anything else,' said Aziraphale, 'I'm not sure romance is on the menu.'

'Maybe not directly but...well... no harm, no foul,' said Crowley, getting to his feet once more 'Besides, means we get a little privacy too.'

Aziraphale took that hand he offered him, keeping hold of it as they began a more sedate pace around the deck and passing the time in conversation of home and their friends rather than the situation hanging over them. It was a good hour later and on the fourth circuit around the deck that they realised that they had lost their companions entirely but they did nothing to find them, instead returning to their cabin with only a brief pause to check in on God and Beelzebub, the even more unholy than usual sounds emanating from the demon prince in the small bathroom saying far more than the expression on God's face did. She waved them off all the same and they headed into the room next door, Aziraphale picking up the room service menu as Crowley stretched himself out on the bed with his phone in his hand as he checked in with Anathema and the security surrounding her and Adam. 

Night had fallen when Aziraphale heard the telltale click of a camera and opened his eyes to see his husband staring smugly down and the picture now on his phone. 

'I've told you about doing that,' said the angel, reaching a hand out from beneath the covers to make a pointless snatch for the phone.

'I don't get to see you asleep that often,' said Crowley, 'I wanted evidence for when you claim you don't.'

'I wasn't asleep. I was resting,' said Aziraphale, 'Your fault, I might add.'

Crowley grinned, 'Still got it in me even though I'm an old man,' he said, 'Nice to know I can still wear you out.'

'Oh don't look so smug,' said Aziraphale as he sat up and reached for the glass of wine on the night stand, 'Do delete it, love. I never look good lying down.'

'You looked gorgeous,' said Crowley, 'In fact...'

He turned his phone enough to allow Aziraphale to see him move it from the picture gallery to the album he had entitled family several years before. It was filled with pictures of those the demon held closest, Aziraphale very much in the lead, closely followed by Warlock, then the Them, Anathema with Newt begrudgingly included and a select few of the Shadwells. It was a small group and Aziraphale wondered if maybe there would be three others included soon, his relationship with Lucifer and Beelzebub strengthening and Michael did not seem far behind. 

'You bugger,' said the angel, though their was no accusation in his tone, 'Just don't let anyone else see it.'

'Mine and mine alone,' said Crowley, closing the album and leaning over to press a kiss to his lips, 'Got any more in the bottle?'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'You imbibed the last of it whilst I... well, it's gone.'

Crowley laughed, 'You always get so coy, it's gorgeous,' he said, dropping his phone down on the bed cover as he climbed out of bed and headed to the room's telephone, ringing in an order for another bottle of wine. Aziraphale held open the covers, expecting him to return but instead the demon headed to the balcony doors, humming to himself as he opened them. 

'At least put something on, dear,' said Aziraphale, 'I'm not sure what the rules are regarding exhibitionism on the high seas but let's not risk an arrest. We have enough to deal with.'

'It's the middle of the night and we can't be seen from the other decks,' said Crowley, 'My stars are out.'

Aziraphale laughed, climbing out of bed himself and pulling on a robe before carrying another to the balcony. 'All yours now are they?'

'Well, most of them,' he said, accepting the robe and putting it on, 'There's one of yours out there too.'

'That you mostly made. I just sat there. Poor thing couldn't even survive on its own.'

'Mmm, binary system. Always thought there was a reason I liked it,' said Crowley, reaching for his hand as Aziraphale frowned in confusion, 'Alpha Centauri, darling. The stars we made together that day. They're Alpha Centauri.'

'Oh bugger off, you're making it up,' said Aziraphale, before he looked up at him, 'Truly?'

Crowley shrugged, 'Can't be certain but would be romantic wouldn't it?' he said, 'Something we created together being out there and calling to me when I wanted us to escape the Earth.'

Aziraphale dropped his hand in favour of snuggling beneath his arm, 'Alpha Centauri or not. I'm glad they're there,' he said, as a kiss was pressed against his hair.

The gentle movement of the ship and the sound of the waves lulled him and he let his eyes fall closed. He smiled as he heard Crowley begin to hum again, the same tune he had headed to the balcony with.

'What is that?' said the angel, 'I recognise it.'

'Just a lullaby I used to sing to Warlock.'

Aziraphale shook his head, 'I never heard you sing to Warlock,' he said, 'And it feels older. Hum it again.'

'Performing monkey am I now?'

'Crowley...'

'Alright,' he said before obliging, the notes a little rougher now he was conscious of them.

Aziraphale played the melody in his head, something in the back of his mind adding voices, thousands of voices as the memories that kept taking him by surprise finally furnished him with the original tune.

'Funny how things are,' he said, 'It's your hymn. The hymn they sang for you when you were the Prince. I remember it, thousands of voices singing it. Guess it bled through.'

Crowley snorted, 'Now you're being daft.'

'I'm serious,' said Aziraphale, 'It's a little altered but it's what they sang to you. Nursery rhymes weren't exactly something you had made much study of before you were Nanny to Warlock.'

'I guess not,' said Crowley, 'Were I not already damned...'

'Not so damned any more,' said Aziraphale, 'Come back to bed.'

Crowley tightened his arm around him, 'Few more minutes. It's peaceful out here, feels like we're alone. I miss us being alone.'

'I'll lock us away for a month at least when this is over,' said Aziraphale, 'Perhaps we could even head off to Alpha Centauri, see if your theory is true.'

'Sounds like a plan, angel,' he said, before he groaned as his phone rang, 'If that's Beelzebub finally coming out of her vomiting haze to demand updates then she can sing for it.'

Aziraphale followed him back into the room as he stalked towards the bed, picking up the phone but hurrying it to his ear the second he looked at the screen. 

'Hello, dear heart. America managing to put up with you?'

The angel smiled as Crowley slipped easily into the soft tones of Nanny Ashtoreth, wondering how he had ever thought to present himself, or herself as he was back then, as a vessel for evil. His thoughts were cut short though as Crowley's voice grew cold.

'Where is he? Where the fuck is he, you evil son of a bitch?'


	21. Empty Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning on this chapter for a brief violent scene against a child.

Aziraphale wrapped an arm firmly around his husband's waist as he saw his legs try to go from underneath him, the demon only just having enough composure to set the phone on to speaker so Aziraphale could hear it.

'Tell me where he is,' Crowley growled once again.

'Why, right here with me of course,' came Gabriel's smooth voice over the line, 'We have taken him into our care.'

'I don't believe you,' said Crowley, his free hand finding Aziraphale's and gripping it as he fought to keep the tears that glistened in his eyes at bay.

'You don't need to take my word for it,' said Gabriel before his voice grew a little distant, 'Tell your precious nanny where you are, boy?'

There was the sound of shuffling feet and then a loud sniff, 'Na...Nanny?' came the voice that stayed bold for half a syllable before it wobbled, 'Nanny, are you there?'

'Yes, Warlock darling, it's me,' said Crowley, not bothering to mask his voice with the tones the boy would be more familiar with, 'I sound a little different but it's still me, hell-spawn. Where are you?'

'I don't know,' sniffed Warlock, 'A white room. They...they took me. The creatures with wings, they took me and I...'

'That's enough!' snapped Gabriel, Warlock's muffled cry causing Crowley's nails to dig into his husband's hand but Aziraphale said nothing against it. 'I don't think you need any more proof, demon. The boy is in our protection now.'

'He has done nothing to you, Gabriel,' said Crowley, 'Let him go.'

'Oh I'm more than happy to. You can come and collect him yourself,' said Gabriel, 'I think it's time for us to have a long overdue chat. Don't you, Raphael?'

'Where?' said Crowley shaking his head as Aziraphale moved into his line of sight to mouth a clear no.

'Headquarters,' said Gabriel, 'Ours of course. Oh and make sure you're here within twelve hours or you precious boy will meet with an unfortunate accident. Children can be so breakable.'

'Touch one hair on his head and so help me...'

Crowley's words were cut off as the phone went dead. It took all of Aziraphale's strength to keep him upright long enough to sit him down on the bed as the last of the demon's strength left him. 

'Ok, you're ok,' said Aziraphale, quickly crouching before him and catching his face in his hands, 'Just breathe. I'm here. Hold on to me.'

Crowley raised a shaking hand to grip onto the sleeve of Aziraphale's robe. 'He's got him, angel,' he said, 'He's got my boy.'

'I know, I know, darling, but we're going to get him back,' he said, tightening his grip in an effort to stop the trembles running through the slim frame before him, 'Let me get the others. I'll be no more than thirty seconds, I promise.'

Crowley shook his head, 'No time. I've got to get to him,' he said, 'I've got to go.'

'Not alone and not without a plan,' said Aziraphale, 'You know this will be a trap and we need to be prepared. You won't save Warlock by rushing in. Right now he is scared and confused, he needs you to be steady and strong when you get to him, love. He needs you to be strong and right now you're not. Let me get the others.'

'Please be quick. We can't waste time. I can't... he's only a boy.'

Aziraphale got to his feet, 'Stay here,' he said, knowing he would be obeyed as he hurried to the door.

He was grateful for the late hour, the corridor deserted as he hurried to the rooms next door to theirs. He knocked on one and then the other, resisting the urge to run back to his own cabin as he waited for them to answer. The first door to open did so to reveal Lucifer and Michael, the pair of them looking at him in confusion as he self-consciously tightened his robe.

'Trouble,' he said quickly, 'Our room.'

'What's happened?' said Michael, 'Where's Crowley?'

'In our room,' said Aziraphale as the other door opened, God the first to appear with Beelzebub looking tired and pale behind her, 'Hurry all of you please. We don't have long.'

'Aziraphale, what's happening?' said Lucifer as the angel headed back towards his own room.

'We got the wrong boy,' he said, 'It wasn't Adam. Gabriel took Warlock and called us from his phone.'

'The boy you thought was the Anti Christ?' said Beelzebub.

'The boy that means the world to me,' said Crowley as they entered the room, 'That bastard took him and I have to get him back.'

'Gabriel said he would release Warlock if Crowley went to Heaven to fetch him,' said Aziraphale, 'Obviously it's a trap but...'

'But?' said Lucifer, 'But nothing. You go to Heaven and death will be waiting for you, not a child. You can't go. We need to stick to our plan.'

'If I don't go, he dies,' said Crowley, 'I have twelve hours and I won't waste a second arguing with you about it.'

'Crowley, you can't, he'll kill you,' said Michael, 'Look at what he did to me? He has the forces of Heaven at his command. Once you're there, you're at his mercy. You can't risk everything we've planned for one boy.'

'One boy?' said Crowley, his voice dropping dangerously, 'One boy, is that all he is? Warlock Dowling is not just some boy and even if he was, even if Gabriel was threatening me with a child I didn't know, I would risk everything to save them because if I didn't I might as well give up now. What am I worth if I'm not willing to risk everything for a child?'

'But you risk us too,' said Michael, 'Our plan, God, the safety of this world, for a boy. Crowley you know this is madness. We cannot risk the lives of seven billion people for a child you once cared for.'

'I don't just care for him, I love him,' said Crowley, 'He is the closest thing to a son that I will ever get to know because regardless of how I design and dress this body to look like a human, it can't do the one thing they can. I can't give life to my own but that didn't matter when I had him, however distant we had to be, so don't you dare stand there and tell me that I cannot go to him. I will tear down the universe with my bare hands before I abandon him.'

'But don't you see, that's what Gabriel wants,' said Lucifer, 'This emotion makes you weak. You need to harden yourself against it or you'll end up dead with him. We stand here with God, brother, and when this is over She can fashion you a dozen children if that's what you want.'

Aziraphale grabbed hold of his husband's hand, holding him firm as he saw the fire rise to his eyes. 'A million replicas could never replace true love, Lucifer,' he said, 'Warlock is not just a child to us. While I have never been as close to him myself, Crowley loves him and therefore so do I and while I know this is a trap, we have to try to save him.'

'They are right,' said God, reaching out a hand to rest on Crowley's shoulder, the demon for once not flinching from her touch, 'If we do not risk everything for one, then we are worthy of none of them. I'll come with you, child.'

Crowley shook his head, 'You can't,' he said, 'If I lead You there then he'll never let You go. You, Lucifer, Michael and Beelzebub need to keep on. Get to Eden. You'll still have enough power that way. Aziraphale...'

'You don't even have to ask, my love,' said the angel, 'I'm coming with you.'

'Then I am too,' said Beelzebub, 'You'll do better with another pair of eyes to watch your back and we need to show them that Hell is with you. Gabriel can spin his lies but none can deny the truth their eyes see. I'm not asking for your permission, Lucifer. This is my path too.'

'You're all mad,' he said, 'He'll kill you and then he'll kill us when he's tortured our plan out of you.'

'Or he'll lose some of his grip when the angels see the Prince of Heaven march into their halls once more,' said God, 'The bravery of the act alone may grant us favour.'

'I know it is dangerous,' said Crowley, 'But if Warlock is harmed, I'm lost anyway. I don't ask you to understand, just don't stand in my way. Go on to Eden and we will meet you on the road if we can.'

'And if you're dead?' said Lucifer, 'What then?'

Crowley smiled sadly, 'Then restrain yourself from weeping for me until the battle is done, brother.'

'This is no time for such frivolity,' said Lucifer, 'This is serious.'

'And if I don't laugh, I'll cry,' sad Crowley, 'Now we need to get moving. We'll need to fly away from the ship, we can't miracle away. The humans will have security on watch but they're looking for things heading down towards the water, they won't be looking up. We need to get to the highest open deck we can reach and take off from there. Once we're a decent distance from the ship we can miracle ourselves to where we need to be.'

'Take the weapons we found in the Vatican,' said Michael, 'They may buy you vital minutes if it comes to a fight.'

Crowley nodded, 'Beelezebub and Aziraphale only though, otherwise you three will be short.'

'What about you?' said Aziraphale, 'You can't...'

'Something tells me going unarmed is the better choice,' said Crowley, 'I'll have my staff but I don't want to encourage a fight.'

God raised Her hand, stilling any further arguments. 'We'll leave you both to dress and ready the weapons,' She said, 'Will ten minutes be enough? We can collect up anything you want to leave behind.'

Crowley nodded, 'More than enough,' he said, 'Beelzebub are you certain you want to come with us?'

'If it gets me off this ship then I'll go anywhere,' she said, 'Though I can't guarantee I won't vomit the moment I see Gabriel's stupid face again.'

God ushered them from the room, closing the door behind them. Crowley had quickly thrown off his robe, collecting up his discarded clothes and pulling them on. Aziraphale moved a little slower, his husband's words playing over again and again in his head, until he came to a halt- bowtie hanging open against his shirt.

'I never knew,' he said finally, raising his gaze in time to see Crowley stiffen momentarily before he continued buttoning up his black shirt, 'Such longing, Crowley. Why did you never say anything?'

Golden eyes met his, wavering between tears and determination. 'What could I say, angel? I realised long ago what I wanted and at the same time I discovered it would never be possible. You know I've had lovers before but regardless of the form I took, nothing ever came of it so I forced that wish away. Warlock gave me the illusion and I... it was a dream that existed for a little while and I love him as if he were my own, even if there's nothing of me in him,' said Crowley, reaching out and capturing Aziraphale's hand, 'Even only seeing him once a month, I could pretend that I...we...'

'We?' said Aziraphale as Crowley blushed and grew intent on their joined hands.

'Of course we,' he whispered, 'Even in my head, if there was to be a father... it could only ever be you, angel. Half the reason I kept it quiet if I'm honest. Couldn't bear to see you not want the same, or worse, have to see my longing in your eyes too.'

Aziraphale raised his free hand, capturing his angular cheek, thumb wiping away the tear that escaped him. 'My darling,' he said, 'There's so little I can say. I won't lie, I've never considered it but that's because I've always been aware that it couldn't happen. I wish I had known the extent of it for you though. I could have...no, there's nothing I could have done, is there?'

Crowley shook his head. 'So no beating yourself up,' he said, 'Besides, bigger things to think of now and Warlock still needs us, even if it's just to get him home to his parents. I'm not leaving him at Gabriel's mercy.'

'Just promise me you'll use this,' said Aziraphale, fingers leaving Crowley's cheek to tap at his temple, 'Rather than your heart when making decisions up there.'

'I promise,' said Crowley, 'And you'll be there to keep me in check.'

Aziraphale laughed, 'Like that has ever worked before,' he said, before his face grew serious again, 'When this is over though, my love, we need to talk about this. Even if there's no solution. I made a promise in front of our friends that I would be with you and support you through everything in this life and I intend to be true to that.'

'You have been,' said Crowley, stepping back far enough to let him fasten the well loved tartan bowtie, 'There. Perfect.'

'I'm sure I look suitably intimidating,' said Aziraphale, with a frown, 'Are you sure you want me there? I want to be but I'm... they are hardly going to take you seriously with me...'

Crowley growled, 'Finish that sentence and there's going to be trouble,' he said, 'You, my brave angel, are going to walk into Heaven at my side, stare that pompous bastard straight in the eye and let him see that he is worth nothing to you or to us. In the last week you've told off both Satan and God Herself. The Archangel Gabriel? You've shooed scarier pigeons off the bookshop roof.'

'Well London pigeons are particularly mean,' said Aziraphale, leaving his side and picking up the wooden staff that was propped against the nightstand, 'Are you sure this is all you're walking in there with?'

Crowley nodded, 'I would prefer that it doesn't come to a fight, especially with Warlock there,' he said, 'Besides, bit of an act, make them think I'm as powerful as I once was.'

'You've done amazing things over the last few days.'

'Not the same as what I used to be capable of but let's hope he doesn't realise that,' said Crowley, pulling on his jacket as a knock came at the door.

Aziraphale handed him the staff before crossing the short distance to the door and opening it to find God alone the other side.

'Is everyone ready?' he asked, keeping his tone measured even as he felt the familiar anger try to push forward.

She nodded, 'Michael has chosen what she believes to be suitable weapons for you and Beelzebub but I'm sure she would value your input. They are next door. I was hoping to speak with Crowley for a moment.'

Aziraphale looked back over his shoulder to see the demon nod.

'It's ok, angel,' he said, 'I'll join you in a minute.'

'I won't be far,' said the angel, though the words were directed to God rather than to Crowley as he left the room.

God pushed the door closed, leaning back against it. 'May I come in?'

Crowley managed a half smile, 'You're a deity, not a vampire,' he said, 'Didn't think you needed an invitation?'

'I do when I'm not sure of my reception,' She said, 'The last time we spoke alone did not end well. My fault, I know. I wanted to talk to you, before you go.'

Crowley sat down on the bed, motioning to the chair opposite. 'A pre-Heaven pep talk,' he said, 'I'm almost intrigued.'

She crossed the room, sitting down in the chair with Her hands folded in Her lap. 'Not a pep talk as such,' she said, 'But a warning. Gabriel is unpredictable. Vicious. Sandalphon and Uriel also. I would not know them from the angels I first willed them to be. My neglect has led to it and I have no way to counter it now but I need to warn you to be prepared. When they came for me and Michael stood in their path to protect me, they overpowered her quickly. There were too many with him, even for her. They had the power to cast us out there and then. They didn't need... they didn't need to hurt her. They tortured her to punish me. They hurt someone they knew I loved because it would hurt me more than anything they could do to me directly. With this child of yours – Warlock – in their power, you need to tread carefully. They know you love him, that's why they took him. He'll be... he'll be a target.'

Crowley leaned his staff against the bed before he crossed his arms over his chest. 'You are hardly encouraging me,' he said, 'I know the risk. I understand all too well that he will hurt him if he thinks it will help him win and I'm not only risking Warlock in this but I'm taking my husband with me as well. Terrifying me into thinking what might happen to them is not going to assist our cause.'

'I don't mean to terrify you but I do want to put you on your guard,' said God, 'You're going to need every tool and every trick to get your child out safely.'

Crowley met Her eyes, 'My child?'

God smiled sadly, 'Is he not?' She said, 'In your heart, he is. In the ache in your empty arms, he is. I see the look in your eyes that I know must be in mine. Something so close, yet forbidden. Not yours. I...'

She trailed off with a shake of Her head, reaching into Her pocket and withdrawing what looked to be a thin strip of golden paper folded over on itself.

'You need all the help you can get,' She said, 'And all the power you can muster.'

She opened Her hand, the paper blooming like a flower, unfolding itself until a slim circlet of gold rested across Her hand.

'Aziraphale recovered this in the Vatican and I've kept it with me since,' She said, 'I don't need to tell you what it is.'

'No,' said Crowley, scowling at the physical manifestation of his halo, 'I'm all too well acquainted with that thing and if You think...'

'It will not cage you,' said God, 'Not now. I give it to you freely, with no expectations. It is your power as it was before I made you the Prince. You will need it. Please, Crowley, take it and save that child. I know I have no right to ask but I need you to trust me. I need you to have the power to keep yourself safe. Please, take it.'

Crowley shook his head, 'I can't. I can't risk...'

'Yes you can. You can risk it because the greater risk is to Warlock if you don't,' She said, before Her shoulders slumped, 'And I know how dreadful that sounds. Crowley, please, for his sake trust me and take it. I fear without it that Gabriel... I cannot lose you again, child. My heart has ached for you for millennia and it won't survive losing you again. Take it, turn the tide and help us build the world you and your brother see. I would give everything if it meant you could have the world you deserve.'

Crowley met Her fathomless gaze, seeing the ancient entity that had been old long before his creation looking back at him with eyes that appeared all too human. He knotted his hands in his lap before he freed one, reaching out and cursing the tremble he saw in it as he touched the tip of a finger to the gold. He shuddered at the coolness of it, the familiar vibration of the power he had once known as it called out to him. He let his eyes fall shut, senses beyond mortal understanding reaching out to the simple band, testing the power within it and finding it without edges or threat. 

He heard the soft exhalation of Her breath as his fingers closed around the gold, the circlet settling in his hand for a moment before he folded it as She had done, the metal becoming like paper until he could slip it into his pocket. Warm hands took hold of his as he withdrew it from his pocket and his head told him to pull away but the desperation in the touch stilled him. He kept his eyes turned away from the sight as his hand was lifted, soft, cool lips pressing to his palm before the warmth that surrounded his hand disappeared and he heard the squeak of a chair and footsteps heading to the door. 

'You should go, give yourself enough time. Gabriel will get more irritable if he is bored waiting for you,' She said, 'Get the boy safe and then get back to us. Now Gabriel has chosen to move against us he will not wait to strike again. We must make Eden.'

She opened the door, the four figures behind it failing to make it look as though they had not been listening in. Crowley sought the familiar blue eyes of his husband, seeing the concern in them and offering a small smile in return in the hope of easing his worry. He knew it had only helped slightly, his own worry translating far easier across his face than any comfort he sought to bring. He caught up his staff, getting to his feet and joining them at the door. 

'The open deck at the back of the ship is still accessible at this time of night,' said Lucifer, 'Not as high as we could do with but it will mean not needing to tangle with the human security and it's not within direct sight of the ship's bridge.'

'Then let's go,' said Crowley, 'Are you two still sure you want to come?'

'Well I'm not letting you go alone,' said Aziraphale.

'And I still owe them for the slice they got me with in Rome,' said Beelzebub, adjusting the belt at her waist that held one of the longer blades they had retrieved from the Vatican. 

'You need to head to the stern,' said Lucifer, 'It takes longer but it will avoid the humans. Michael will take you, we'll attract less attention that way. Good luck, all of you.'

The farewell was brief, time against them, before Michael led them towards the rear of the ship. Crowley caught hold of Aziraphale's hand with his free one, lacing their fingers together as they followed behind, Beelzebub taking the rear. 

'What did She say to you?' whispered the angel, 'Are you alright?'

Crowley nodded, 'She gave me back my halo, my power as it was before,' he said, 'I just hope...She promises it won't cage me but I'm not inclined to trust Her fully yet. If anything happens, if I use it and I'm trapped again, I'll need you. You got me out last time, angel. It was your voice that freed me. If I use it and it cages me, get Warlock to safety if you can and then pull me back. Promise me you'll get him safe first though, he's just a boy.'

'I will,' Aziraphale promised, squeezing his fingers, 'I'll get you both safe if it's in my power to do so.'

The rest of the journey passed in silence, luckily avoiding any human encounters until they finally broke into the fresh air. They were two thirds up on the vast ship, several floors towering over them but all of them dark as the activities offered at night were kept sensibly away from access to the water. 

'If you can't miracle yourselves out of there,' said Michael as she made one final check of the weapons Aziraphale and Beelzebub carried, 'There's a stairwell, it comes off the corridor that attaches to the escalator. It leads down to Hell. It can be locked from both sides, if you can get to the panel first then they'll have to go the long way round. Aziraphale will be the only one who can activate it, it can only be controlled by angelic hands. Watch for Sandalphon. He's never without a weapon but wears them concealed. He'll head for Aziraphale if it comes to a fight, he's knows he intimidates him.'

'Will I be a burden then?' said the angel, 'I don't want to be the weak point in the mission.'

'Stick him before he sticks you and we'll be fine,' said Beelzebub, 'Chance for you to get a bit of payback. Reckon you're tougher than you look.'

'Praise indeed, angel. She's never usually that nice,' said Crowley, reaching into his pocket and retrieving his mobile phone, handing it to Michael, 'Keep hold of that. Even though we're assuming the prophecy is now about Warlock, we still need to keep an eye on Tadfield. Anathema will call on that if anything happens there. They're our friends and if Aziraphale and I can't protect them, please look after them for us.'

'You have my word,' said Michael, 'Take care, all of you, and come back to us.'

Crowley opened his wings, the great expanse of silver-grey blocking out the light from the moon for a moment before he folded them down behind his back. Aziraphale and Beelzebub followed suit, wingspans far smaller but they both took off with ease as they followed him into the sky. They did not look back, Crowley taking the lead as he headed back towards the mainland as quickly as they could without needing to resort to a miracle. 

They were still many miles out when Crowley beckoned them closer, both of them having to fly lower to avoid his wings. 

'We're far enough away from the ship,' he said over the wind and the waves, 'We can risk a miracle. If we transport ourselves to the roof of the bookshop, we can drive to the entrance to Heaven. Miracle ourselves closer and we might find an ambush.'

'The same could be said for home,' said Aziraphale, 'Better somewhere neutral. St James' Park, only people there at this time of night will either be too inebriated to worry if they see us or too scared to do anything about it. It'll cost us a bit of time but not enough to not be worth the risk. I've not transported myself that far for decades though. I don't know if I can.'

Crowley reached out a hand, 'Take hold of me,' he said, 'I'll take you. Beelzebub?'

'I'm fine,' she said, pulling the sword from the belt around her waist, 'Hopefully unnecessary but I'd rather erase the memory of a policeman than let anyone get the drop on me.'

'If we lose sight of each other, head for the gates nearest to the palace,' said Crowley, 'We'll meet there, if I'm there first though I'm not waiting more than ten minutes.'

Beelzebub nodded, 'Best get a move on then.'

Crowley tightened his grip on Aziraphale's hand, drawing him closer until the angel was forced to fold away his own wings and trust in the demon's alone. 

'You flew this way with me in Heaven,' said Crowley, 'Relax and trust me. I won't lose you.'

Aziraphale relaxed his hold, closing his eyes as he felt the pull of Crowley's power surrounding him. He had grown used to the slight sting that had always accompanied any miracle performed by the demon but the sensation never came, instead a magic more akin to his own enveloped him as they sped through the ether to their destination. 

They hit the ground hard, hearing the thump of Beelzebub landing nearby before she let out a curse.

'I do not want to do that again in a hurry,' she said, crossing the small distance to meet them in the thankfully empty park, 'All in one piece?'

'Think so,' said Aziraphale, 'Crowley, your magic...'

'I know, I felt it too,' he said, twisting his staff in his hands, 'Analysis later. We need to get moving. Gabriel will have sensed that so keep your wits about you.'

'He'll want you in Heaven,' said Beelzebub as they headed towards the exit, 'He could have summoned you anywhere with that boy. This is all about him showing his power.'

'Then we show him ours,' said Crowley, 'Our priority needs to be getting Warlock out, regardless of who he is. He's mortal and far more fragile. If any one of use gets the chance, break away with him and get him to Tadfield. I don't want to put any more risk on them but it's the safest place for him until we can get him back to his parents. We don't make this into a fight unless we have to.'

Their journey was unencumbered, the few people they passed typical late night Londoners, concerned with their own business rather than anyone else's and they soon found themselves outside the building that concealed the entrance to Heaven and Hell. The building was lit up like the offices surrounding it, the escalators working despite no one being apparently inside. Their arrival prompted movement though, two angels – armoured and armed- appearing at the base of the escalator as they stepped inside.

'Our fight isn't with them,' said Crowley, 'We need their support, not their fear. We're here to see Gabriel.'

His last words were directed at the two guards, offering no title or acknowledgement of rank of their supposed master. 

'He wants you alone,' said one, 'The demon and the principality can wait here.'

Crowley shook his head, 'Then we'll get back to what we were doing,' he said, 'He sees us all or not at all. Surely, if he has the whole of Heaven, he should not be afraid even if I arrived with all of Hell beside me.' 

The silence that followed was weighted, the guards looking between one another before they nodded and waved them towards the escalator. Crowley was the first to step on, Aziraphale and then Beelzebub following before the guards took up the rear. Aziraphale risked reaching out, pressing his fingers briefly to his husband's back, the touch conveying the support and shared fear that had to go unspoken. 

'Courage, love,' whispered the demon as they reached the uppermost level, more guards flanking the door. 

No words were spoken but Crowley soon found himself flanked on one side by Aziraphale and Beelzebub on the other, grateful for the guard even if it would prove useless if Heaven fell upon them. The doors opened before them, revealing the familiar gaping chamber but where it had always been empty save for a handful of high ranking angels, it was now filled. Rank upon rank of armed angels stood either side of the room, forming a long walkway. 

They did not pause as they began the walk along the makeshift aisle towards the figures gathered at the end, Gabriel at their centre but it was not the sight of him in the position of power that caught their attention but the bloodied, white wings mounted on the wall behind him.

'Mercy, they're...' began Aziraphale before Beelzebub's hiss cut him off.

'Michael's,' she said, 'Let it make you angry, not afraid. This is the Heaven he wants but we will not fear it.'

Crowley pulled his eyes from the sight, instead scanning the figures in search of Warlock but the boy was nowhere to be seen and an icy finger of fear ran up his back. He strode forward though, seeing the cruel smile spread across Gabriel's face as they grew closer.

'God's champions indeed,' said the Archangel, 'What is this clutter that blew into my hallway? Does She really expect me to believe that you were once Raphael?'

'You know I am, Gabriel,' said Crowley, 'And doesn't that just terrify you? I bet you thought I was long gone millennia ago.'

Gabriel laughed, 'You might wear the same face but you're nothing more than a demon,' he said, 'Even with your little prop and your ridiculous guards. I imagine Aziraphale is more likely to harm himself with that mortal weapon he has rather than one of us. The Prince of Heaven indeed.'

'Thank you for my title,' said Crowley, with a mocking bow, 'Seeing as you acknowledge it, you may want to see fit to return my kingdom as well. If God absent then I am Her heir.'

'I admire your guts, I'll give you that,' said Gabriel with a snap of his fingers, 'But you might want to watch your tongue unless you wish to try and reassemble him.'

'Get your hands off me! I can walk on my own.'

The ranks of angels parted, making a path for the struggling Warlock, the white rope around his wrists held tightly by Sandalphon as he dragged him harshly and forced him to stumble. He pushed the boy to his knees as they reached Gabriel, his hand abandoning the rope and taking hold of his long black hair. 

'A spirited child, is he not?' said Gabriel, 'His parents practically begged me to take him. A confusing upbringing I would imagine. It damages a child. Look, Warlock, do you recognise your precious Nanny now?'

Crowley wished Aziraphale was a step closer, if only to have the comfort of being able to reach for him if he needed to as Warlock raised his gaze, stubborn blue eyes searching the demon's face even as his golden eyes remained hidden by his glasses. 

'Nanny?'

'Yes it's me,' said Crowley, cursing the tremble in his voice, 'Long story but I'm here to take you home.'

Gabriel clicked his fingers once again and Sandalphon forced the boy's gaze back to the Archangel even as he struggled in his grip. 

'See how he's lied to you all these years,' said Gabriel, 'He's not human you know, he's a demon. A creature of evil. His influence is the reason your life is miserable but I can change that. All you need to do, is renounce him. Say you want to walk a path to Heaven. Swear your allegiance to me.'

Despite only being in profile, the frown on Warlock's face was apparent. 'But you're a dick.'

The sound of the back of Gabriel's hand striking the boy's cheek echoed through the cavernous chamber, blood spattering the floor as the pale skin below his eye bloomed open. Warlock whimpered but the grip Sandalphon had on him held him in place. Gabriel sneered as he drew a white handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his hand clean before he tossed it at a nearby angel.

'And this is the trouble with letting humanity think they are more important than they are,' said the Archangel, 'Nearly as bad as demons making a claim on Heaven. Our rule here now is absolute and humans are finally going to be reminded of their place.'

'What are you hoping to prove?' said Crowley, his voice dangerously low as his fingers tightened around his staff until it threatened to splinter, 'Harming a child only makes you a bully. If you rule by fear...'

'Fear has been entirely too lacking,' said Gabriel, 'God was too soft. She let them live when they should have died but I will put that right. They will know their masters before the end.'

'You're mad,' said Crowley, 'God tested them and they passed, they have earned the right to live. You have no right to do this. They are under our protection.' 

'They forfeited that a long time ago and now they will know the consequences,' said Gabriel, 'I think it only fitting that young Warlock here be the first example. You failed to teach him manners, Nanny.'

Another click of his fingers and one of the soldiers surrounding him stepped forward with a whip, Sandalphon dragging Warlock across the floor, the rope around the boy's wrists splitting in two until his arms were held out wide from his side.

'Don't you dare hurt him,' cried Crowley, even as Beelzebub cursed behind him and Gabriel's eyes lit cruelly.

'An example must be made,' said the Archangel, 'Unless there is someone who will take his place.'

A wave of his hand had Warlock lifted from the ground, the boy's legs flailing as he clawed at his own throat and the invisible pressure against it.

'Take his place, Raphael,' said Gabriel, 'Or he dies.'


	22. The Prince

Crowley knew what he had been walking into. From the moment Gabriel's voice rather than Warlock's had sounded over the phone, he knew he was walking into a trap designed to weaken him at best or destroy him at worst. Seeing it playing out before him though, seeing the boy he loved as his own being suspended in mid-air by angelic powers, nearly froze the blood in his veins and for a moment his mind flailed for the next step in the plan he was making up as he went along. 

His eyes scanned the room, taking only second to run through several plans. The first was to make a grab for the boy but he knew Gabriel would break his neck before he had even gone a step, plus it would leave Aziraphale too exposed and the soldiers surrounding them were armed to the teeth. The second was to call Gabriel's bluff and flee, regroup and mount another rescue attempt but the Archangel had already shown that he had no issue with harming Warlock and, while killing him would not work in Gabriel's favour, there was no limit to the torture he could inflict upon the boy. 

It was on the final pass around the room, his mind leaping through calculations of numbers and their chances if it came to a fight that he caught a set of eyes he knew better than most of the others even with his memories of Heaven. They were eyes he had never seen in Heaven though, instead they were eyes he had seen across an open fire as they spoke of the world, educated each other. He realised, as he recognised the kindness and understanding that he had once so admired, that they had so much more in common than he ever had thought. He also saw the words that could not be said aloud, the promise in those soulful eyes and he knew, however the next few moments played out, there was still hope.

It had been less than five seconds since Gabriel had made his threat when Crowley's staff clattered to the polished floor. 

'Gladly,' he said, 'Let him go, Gabriel. I'll take any punishment you think fit to give him.'

Gabriel smiled, Warlock dropping to the floor without warning, a scream leaving him as he landed awkwardly. He made no attempt to get up but there was soon an armed angel on him all the same, pressing down too hard on his shoulder to keep him in place, the ropes around his hands binding him once more.

Sandalphon, relieved of his charge of Warlock, took hold of the whip that had been brought forward and Crowley heard Aziraphale's sharp intake of breath behind him. He turned, shrugging off his black jacket as nonchalantly as he could and handing it to his husband. 

'Crowley, don't do this,' whispered Aziraphale, 'He'll kill you.'

'I've lived through worse,' said Crowley, taking off his glasses and tucking them into Aziraphale's pocket, 'And better me than Warlock. Do not try to stop them, either of you. Whatever happens, just trust me. Keep your eyes on mine, angel.'

He stepped back, positioning himself midway between his friends and the enemy at his back but he didn't turn, instead he knelt down on the floor with his arms outstretched. Ropes snapped around his wrists, pulling taut and immobilising him further. He raised his gaze, meeting his husband's worried blue eyes and forced a smile to his lips, glad when he saw Beelzebub move a little closer to him. 

He heard Gabriel's cruel laugh behind him but didn't even acknowledge the sound with movement. 

'Foolish sentiment,' sneered the Archangel, 'You would offer yourself so freely for a mortal. Even if they say they are grateful for what is given to them by us, they forget it soon after. You're a fool, Raphael. You always were.'

Crowley again remained silent, hearing the subtle shifts of the angels surrounding him, his lack of response clearly not following the way they had envisioned the meeting going. Gabriel's angry intake of breath cut through the noise though and his next words were hissed through clenched teeth.

'It you are so determined to be a martyr to your cause, it is only fitting that I acknowledge that,' he said, 'I believe forty less one was traditional. Sandalphon.'

Crowley shook his head minutely as he saw Aziraphale grow pale, blue eyes widening in fear. He forced a smile to his lips but he couldn't stop it falling as Beelzebub spoke.

'Holy water.'

He bit back a curse, hoping that whatever God had done to allow him to walk without pain through the Church of St Peter would hold when he could do nothing to defend himself. The grimace on Aziraphale's face was all the warning he got before the first strike fell, his breath leaving him in a rush as he bit back the urge to scream. He was grateful for the ropes holding his arms wide, keeping him upright when instinct wanted him to curl away from the pain. The second strike was equally brutal, the wetness more than the blood it drew, the holy water coating the whip burning like acid in the wound but it did little more than deepen the hurt. 

He heard Warlock's whimpers behind him, knowing that Gabriel would be cruel enough to force him to watch, and it strengthened him, keeping his screams at bay even as lash after lash fell. Throughout every strike he kept his eyes on Aziraphale's, the angel forcing back tears as his fingers tightened around the black jacket he held. He let his mind drift into the memory of the eyes before him, from the moment of Aziraphale's creation when he had compared their colour to his to hours before when they had laid in bed, content in each other's arms. 

Gabriel counted the strikes, only pausing on occasion to tell Sandalphon to deepen the strike, his voice growing in frustration as Crowley refused to cry out. Crowley heard the count of twenty-eight when the next strike fell with a greater fury than any of the others, catching him beneath his arm, the torn shirt and already split skin doing nothing to protect him. He couldn't fight the cry that left him, two further hits following too close behind to allow him to recover himself. He bit down and tasted blood, his corporeal form too delicate to cope with the onslaught. He heard Gabriel's laughter behind him but it was Beelzebub's voice that echoed above it, the tone one he had not heard since he had first ventured back into Hell at Lucifer's call.

'Stop your squealing,' she snapped, 'You've had worse from me. For everyone you shriek at, you'll get another ten from me. You're a demon. Act like one. Don't let this angel scum get the better of you.'

'Shut her up!'

Gabriel's words preceded the blade soon held at Beelzebub's throat but Crowley saw the small twitch to her lips as she was dragged out of his sightline, the both of them knowing that he vicious words had been the encouragement he needed. He fought the urge to scream as the strokes continued, capturing Aziraphale's gaze as the world began to blur. He felt the warm wetness pooling around him, his own blood flowing freely enough to soak through his jeans, the power of the holy water weakening not just his body but whatever made him beneath it. 

The cry of thirty-nine, the last of the lashes, should have comforted him but the world was swimming, and he barely heard Gabriel call Sandalphon off though he was sure it was shouted. The ropes at his wrists slackened, his body too beaten to hold him upright, and he fell forward, only just catching himself. The proximity of the ground though cleared his head, the ringing in his ears lessening and his mind catching up with him though choosing mainly to inform him just how much pain he was in.

'Behold!' said Gabriel, the pleasure in his voice cutting like glass in the stony silence of the room, 'The Prince of Heaven. Nothing more than a demon, weak and whimpering on the floor. It would be a kindness to kill him.'

'No! Nanny!'

Crowley cursed his body as he struggled to regain control of his limbs as he heard Warlock's cry and the heavy limping run.

'No, no,' sneered Gabriel, 'Let him go to him. Let him see what his precious Nanny truly is.'

Crowley heard the boy hit to floor behind him, the squeak of him dragging himself the last few feet only ceasing as he drew close and met with the blood making the floor slick. Cool, trembling hands took hold of his face and he willed the pain away from his expression as he finally focused on the face before him. A bloody cut sat over one eye, the bruising deep and spreading down onto his cheek, but it did nothing to hide the determination in his gaze. 

'Hello Hell-spawn,' he said, hating the tremor in his voice, 'I'm sorry. This...'

'My Nanny,' said Warlock, lips trembling around a weak smile, 'You're my Nanny.'

Crowley nodded, the simple move pulling at the deep wounds at his neck, 'Always,' he said, dropping his voice to a whisper, 'I'm going to get you out of here. Go to the blond angel I was standing with. You once knew him as Brother Francis. Tell him to wrap his wings around you and be ready. Now go. Go, I'll be with you soon.'

Warlock hesitated but then pulled back, getting to his feet and Crowley winced to see the twist of his ankle, the bone clearly broken when Gabriel had dropped him. Despite the injury, Warlock carried himself as best he could and Crowley raised his head enough to see Aziraphale catch him, steadying him before listening to Warlock's whispered message. White wings flared, before they wrapped around the boy, Gabriel's cruel laughter following the movement.

'If you think he is capable of protecting you, mortal, then you are as big a fool as the rest of your race,' he said, 'You'd have been better placed to stay with the demon. God has proven She has nothing left to give, two demons and a failure of an angel sent as Her champions. The power of Heaven does not belong in Her hands but in mine.'

Crowley laughed though it came out closer to a rasp. 'The only power you have is in your head,' he said, 'Any you lay claim to came from Her. You are nothing.'

He heard the footsteps that echoed behind him before a hand took hold of his hair, yanking his head backwards, angry lavender eyes meeting his.

'You are the one who is nothing,' spat the Archangel, 'You have been since the day She cast you out. You are finished and when I find Her, so is She and all those who march with Her.'

This time he did not have a chance to catch himself as Gabriel threw him down to the floor, his cheek impacting solidly with the cool stone and he bit down on his lip to still his cry, tasting the fresh blood in his mouth.

'Away with you all,' said Gabriel, his voice raised to address the room.

Crowley heard it then, above his own pained breathing, over the rustle of Aziraphale's feathers as the closed tighter around Warlock, over the subtle movements of the angels that surrounded them who were unsure how and where to exit the scene before them. It was soft, barely a hum, but there all the same. The melody that had once been the basis for Warlock's lullaby, the tune he had hummed to himself on the balcony of the ship in the few blissful moments that had existed before Gabriel had summoned them, the hymn that had once been sung to him even when he had not had the consciousness to hear it. 

'What's that noise?' snapped Gabriel, 'Out, all of you. This is over.'

Crowley pushed himself back up onto his knees, trembling fingers moving to his pocket. 'I'm afraid you will find,' he said, his voice trembling, 'That this is far from over.'

xxxx

'Michael, for sanity's sake sit down,' said Lucifer, crossing one ankle over the other as he lay back against the headboard of the small bed, 'Putting a hole in the deck isn't going to make anything go quicker.'

'We should have heard something by now,' said Michael, checking the phone in her hand once more, 'Why haven't we heard anything?'

'No news is good news,' said Lucifer, 'Worrying is just going to exhaust you.'

Michael turned to him, eyes flashing with anger. 'How can you be so calm?' she hissed before she raised her voice, 'How can you both be so calm? They are our friends and they're...'

'Lucifer is right, child,' came God's voice from her seat by the open balcony doors, her attention turned to the water, 'Worrying only harms you. It does nothing for them.'

'They could be dead!' cried Michael, 'Gabriel he... I can't rest until they're safe.'

'They're safe for now,' said God, 'I'd know otherwise.'

Lucifer sat up and caught hold of Michael's hand as she tried to resume her pacing. 'Stop,' he said, 'Just sit. Whatever is happening we'll know soon enough and if we have to carry on this fight alone, we'll need all our strength.'

'Don't say that,' she said, dropping her head into her hands as she sank down onto the bed, 'He won't be merciful. Whatever he does to them or gets Sandalphon to do to them, it will hurt. He'll make sure it hurts.'

Lucifer hesitated before he laid a hand on her back, careful to keep away from the place where her wings would join, knowing the memory would make the site painful even though the wounds had been healed.

'They're strong,' he said.

'Not against that many,' said Michael, 'He holds Heaven, millions of angels. What can they do if that turns against them?'

Lucifer sighed, 'I don't know,' he said, 'But I trust them to find a way. They're clever.'

'We should have gone with them,' she said, 'Or better yet, not let them go.'

'Crowley could not have abandoned the child,' said God, 'Our defeat would only have been hastened if Gabriel had been given the chance to hurt him. It would have destroyed all the fight he had in him.'

'Well perhaps he should have shared the truth about Warlock before Gabriel had the chance to get hold of him,' said Michael, 'What was he thinking leaving him vulnerable if he cared for him that much?'

'No doubt he was hoping that the distance between them would allow Warlock to go unnoticed,' said Lucifer, 'Besides, we all assumed it would be Adam at risk when we heard the prophecy. He featured quite heavily in the failure of Armageddon after all and Gabriel is no doubt reeling from that still.'

'Even so, it was foolish not to mention it,' said Michael, 'Even Aziraphale seemed to underestimate the extent of it.'

'But he trusted Crowley enough to follow him into Heaven,' said Lucifer, 'And Beelzebub doesn't just follow a whim, she has self preservation written into her bones. Just let them do what they need to do and be in the best shape you can be for them when they come back to us.'

'Wish I had your confidence.'

Lucifer smiled, 'I remember what Crowley is capable of when it comes to the people he loves. Trust him.'

Michael nodded, though she raised the phone to find nothing more than the same screen she had looked at countless times before. She sighed, dropping it into her lap.

'How much more is going to change?' she said, quietly, 'Less than a fortnight ago I found myself no longer welcome in my home. I thought... I won't call them my friends but I truly thought Gabriel wanted what was best for us until he showed his true hand. All I had left in the world were an angel and a demon I was certain I hated and since then I have learned so much. Remembered so much. I don't think I have been truly happy since the day Raphael was raised up to the Prince. Even then I knew something was wrong and then you came to me.'

'And as I said back in Italy,' said Lucifer, 'I am glad you did not follow. You are no demon.'

'Perhaps ask Aziraphale if he agrees with that assessment,' said Michael, 'My cruelty to him...'

'Was programmed into you,' said Lucifer, 'And if this quest goes in our favour any wrongs, however long they were committed for, can be forgiven. I have much to ask forgiveness for.'

'We all do,' said God from Her chair, fingers worrying the moulding of the wooden arm, 'But that is for the days to come. My hope is...'

'Lord?' said Lucifer as She fell silent, Her body beginning to shake as she gripped tighter onto the arms of the chair, 'Are you well?'

Michael left the bed when there was no response, previous anger swiftly forgotten as she crouched before her mistress, covering her hands with her own. 'Speak to us?' she said, 'What's happening? Are You hurt?'

She shook Her head, 'No but I didn't think it would feel like this,' She said, her voice strained, 'I only hope it is enough for him.'

'Him who?' said Michael, sharing a concerned look with Lucifer as he knelt beside her.

'Crowley,' said God, a small smile breaking passed the discomfort on Her face, 'My Prince is choosing his power.'

xxxx

Aziraphale tightened his wings around Warlock as he heard Crowley's challenging words, dreading what punishment Gabriel would visit upon him and wanting to protect the boy from the sight even if he would have to witness it himself. He considered the blade at his side, the short sword reminiscent of the one given to him by God at the world's inception. Enough to defend himself and Warlock but not enough to mount any offensive. Beelzebub, though calm, was still held fast by the guard who had pulled her away and more at risk of injury when the extent of God's blessing wasn't clear. 

He heard the shuffling of the angels surrounding them, the strange low hum that sounded oddly like a song in the room where music had been a thing of memory for millennia, but his attention remained fixed on Crowley. The demon's hand trembled as he reached for the tight pocket of his jeans, drawing out what looked like paper before he let it unfurl in his hand. Aziraphale watched the slim golden band form, realising just what it was in his husband's hand and he tightened his grip on his charge. 

'Warlock, I don't know what is going to happen but try not to look,' he said, 'There are sights dangerous to mortals and I don't know what's going to happen now.'

'Is Nanny alright?'

'I hope so,' said Aziraphale, handing him Crowley's jacket, 'Hold on to that and then on to me. I'll need my hands free to fight. Just trust me and do as I say.'

'Whatever that noise is, shut it up!' cried Gabriel, 'Sandalphon.'

Crowley laughed, his blood stained hands trembling as he held the thin golden band. 'If you are going to call on your pet torturer every time someone sings, oh mighty Gabriel, you will never hold Heaven. Ruling by fear will result in nothing but rebellion. You should learn from the mistakes of your mistress. She at least realised that an iron fist meant Her children fell through Her grip.'

'What would you know of holding Heaven, demon?' said Gabriel, 'You were a puppet then and you are a puppet now. She threw you down and She will throw you down when you are no longer of use to Her again.'

'Evidence would suggest otherwise,' said Crowley, 'Her policy, in the last two thousand years, has seemed more inclined to raise up those who speak for Her, even if She does not speak back.'

'And now one of the Fallen advocates for God,' said Gabriel, 'What do you hope to gain from this? Do you think She will return you to the place you once had at Her side if you speak for Her now?'

'I don't want a place at Her side. I don't even want a place in Heaven,' said Crowley, 'But what I do want is Her to have Her place in Heaven and for that Heaven, and Hell beside it, to be just and useful. I do not want a part in any of it but, if I must and if the only way to ensure that is to put my trust entirely in Her, then I will. Child, whatever you have planned, now is the time.'

Aziraphale frowned at the words, the name not one he had ever given to Warlock and he doubted the trembling boy in his wings could offer anything to the situation they found themselves in. He did not have time to think on it though as yellow eyes, the memory of the Serpent of Eden that Crowley carried daily, snapped up, meeting Aziraphale's for a moment more before he raised the slim circlet of gold in his hand. The moment it touched his skin a light, brighter than even the light that had brought Aziraphale the Metatron, surrounded him. The entire room regardless of rank cried out in shock but it was another shout that startled Aziraphale more.

Around the room, angels cried out a rallying call before explosions seemed to rock the floors below. He tightened his wings around Warlock as the boy whimpered at the heat that hit them. The light lessened enough that Aziraphale could see Crowley, panic seizing his veins as he realised he was surrounded by a ring of fire where his blood had been spilled. Slowly though, it drew back towards him, taking with it the black clothes that were such a familiar silhouette and replacing them with dove-grey robes, complementing the great wings that unfolded from his back. The flames tumbled in on themselves, forming tiny spheres that burned as brightly as stars as they surrounded the blood red halo that was no longer broken or cracked but whole. 

Where Crowley had knelt moments before, the Prince of Heaven now rose to his feet, the staff that had been abandoned flying to his hand. It should have filled Aziraphale with terror to see him in such a way, every memory of him so heartbreaking but there were no glittering jewelled tears, no sightless eyes, only power and confidence as he turned towards Gabriel, the Archangel smart enough to step back before he remembered himself. 

Heaven echoed with screams, some at the sight of him and others at the explosions on the floors below. All were silenced though as the great staff struck the floor, the power behind it shaking the ground.

'Enough!' came the voice, Crowley in part but joined by several tones that rumbled like thunder and chimed like the purest church bells, 'Enough of this. Gabriel, whatever you have hoped to achieve is failing around you. Give up now and mercy is yours. We come from a vengeful God, a merciless mother but we do not need to follow that path. Submit. Relinquish Heaven and regain your place in the choir you were made for. We should never have had to fight at the beginning, we must not fight now.'

A wave of his hand had the blade at Beelzebub's throat disintegrate to nothing, the angel that held her swiftly backing away once he found himself unarmed. Crowley turned his head enough to look at her, the glamour surrounding him fading only slightly as he spoke in his own voice once more.

'Go to Aziraphale,' he said, 'Either way, we are nearly done here.'

The demon prince crossed the short distance between them, Aziraphale certain his own eyes mirrored the fear and the awe that he saw in hers. He was grateful for her presence, a touch of normality in a place that seemed to be spinning out of understanding as Crowley turned back to Gabriel and the angels that now flanked him.

'See sense, Gabriel,' he said, the thunder and bells returning to his voice, 'Step back and allow us to return God to Her rightful place.'

Gabriel unfurled his own white wings, easily dwarfed by Crowley's but shimmering with a power that had not been shown for many centuries. 'And let Her pollute Heaven with the demon stock She now clings to?' he said, 'I would no more give Her Heaven than I would you. Your cheap tricks mean nothing here. If you want Heaven, then fight for it.'

'Heaven will come to us,' said Crowley, 'Already they turn against you and you cannot see it.'

Gabriel smirked, 'Then why do they not help you, demon?'

'Seraph,' said Crowley, his eyes scanning the room once more before they settled at a shadowed corner, 'And help is not always found in the most obvious places. Help is an angel and a demon standing against Armageddon. Help is the spirit of humankind. So if you will not back down, if it is a fight you want then that is what you will have. One more time, Nazareth. Shake these halls as you once shook Earth.'

'Nazareth?'

It was the last word heard as another, larger explosion shook the floors below them but it was nothing compared by the hurricane of movement as Crowley turned, great wings propelling him towards his friends before they were all dragged into the ether. 

It was the work of no more than a second before they found themselves no longer in Heaven but outside a familiar cottage. A great storm lapped at Tadfield, illuminating the night darkened street, the lightning far more furious than a natural storm.

'He better tone it down soon.'

Crowley's voice roused Aziraphale from the confusion of moments before, realising that he was still clutching onto Warlock, both arms and wings protecting him from any threat. He felt familiar hands on his shoulder, the touch both startling and comforting, and he slowly opened his wings, hushing Warlock as his breathing grew panicked.

'You're alright,' said Crowley, 'You're both alright but we need to get inside. Beelzebub? You with us?'

'Me and another,' she said, before her voice turned to a growl, 'Stand down, Hastur. We're not a threat.'

'Forgive me if I see angel wings and do the job you told me to do,' came the familiar grumble, 'Where the Heaven did you come from?'

'Bring him up to speed,' said Crowley, 'Aziraphale?'

He opened his eyes, Crowley's familiar face swimming into view but his eyes, which had once reflected the demon he had become, now shone golden and whole as they had been in Heaven.

'You look different,' he said, cursing how obvious the words were.

'I imagine I do,' said Crowley, 'But enough for now. Warlock? Are you alright?'

Trembling hands tightened on Aziraphale's lapels before the boy slowly relaxed but only enough to look between them both, his pupils blown wide in an effort to take in all before him. 

'You?..Who?' he stuttered, before his eyes rolled back and he fell limp in Aziraphale's arms.

'Oh dear,' said the angel, 'Poor boy.'

Crowley smiled, 'You don't look far off it yourself,' he said, as the lightning split the sky once more, 'Give him to me. We need to get inside. Let's hope Anathema is willing to be hospitable.'

Aziraphale relinquished the boy, picking up the sword and jacket that had fallen around them when they had hit the ground. Crowley lifted Warlock with ease, the great silver-grey wings disappearing as he righted his hold. The angel took a moment to take in the changes in his husband, the hair that had been worn to his shoulders since they had found Michael now tumbling to his waist and a dove-grey tunic and trousers replacing the familiar black. The staff and the halo that had started the transformation were absent but he was sure they were still within reach though hidden as his wings were.

'Hey,' said Crowley gently, 'I'm still me.'

Aziraphale managed a weak smile at the words, 'I know. Just give me a moment.'

'Bollocks is that Crowley,' came Hastur's voice, 'Been hanging out with angels too long.'

'Nice to see you again too,' said Crowley as they turned towards the Duke of Hell. 

'Could have given us a bit of warning you were going to turn up like that,' said Hastur, 'We thought Heaven was mounting an attack.'

'We didn't have time to warn anyone,' said Beelzebub as the storm began to calm, 'But at least I didn't find you shirking your duties. Where are the others?'

'Watching,' said Hastur, 'Wanted to see what we were facing.'

'Then I should see them all,' she said, pointing to the cottage, 'Are you going in there?'

Crowley nodded, 'If Anathema allows it,' he said, 'I need to see this one right. Don't go to far.'

Beelzebub nodded, turning away with Hastur as several lights began to turn on in the houses nearby.

'Let's get in before the curtains start twitching,' said Crowley, 'I'll see to Warlock and then we can talk.'

'You said Nazareth,' said Aziraphale, 'The only Nazareth...'

'In a minute,' said Crowley, though the words were gentle, 'Go and knock on the door. Anathema likes you more than me and, even though the storm has stopped, it's still going to rain.'


	23. Found Family

The lights dimmed with a wave of Crowley's hand, augmenting the darkness outside as dawn still seemed reluctant to approach through the rain. The voices from the kitchen where the others had gathered carried but they had the courtesy to become whispers as they passed the threshold to the room. 

He adjusted the blankets that covered the sleeping boy, his injuries healed as quickly as they had been made but his mind needed a little longer to recover despite the small miracle Crowley had worked into healing the skin above his eye that put at least a few things in a clearer light. He stroked a strand of black hair back off his face before he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder and turned with a small smile.

'He'll rest for a while and then we'll have to talk to him,' said Crowley, 'Where to begin though?'

'Depends how much time we have,' said Aziraphale, hand moving from Crowley's shoulder to feather through the long strands of his hair, 'I have the feeling, despite all this, that we still have more before us.'

Crowley sighed, 'Unless Gabriel surrenders, then yes,' he said, 'Or whatever was orchestrated in Heaven has more power than I have given it credit for. Wouldn't have had a chance without them.'

Aziraphale perched on the mattress beside him, taking hold of his hand and running a finger over the fine skin of his knuckles, 'What happened up there? One minute you were covered in blood and then...this. I was terrified.'

Crowley smiled, covering their hands with his own, 'So was I,' he said, 'But I realised that he was never going to see reason with words alone and that, if I wanted those looking at me to believe that I was wholly behind God then I had to be. I had to trust Her and She...She came through. She promised me it would be my power, not a cage and it is. I feel...Aziraphale...She let me be free and I can't...'

Strong arms came around him as tears that had been over six thousand years in the making finally fell. Aziraphale rocked him gently, one hand carding a steady path through his hair.

'Oh my love,' he said gently, 'I can't even begin to understand how it must feel for you. You look like you did back then, you know? The last time I saw this face was Eden before the Fall.'

'Reckon I was a little more beaten up then,' said Crowley, raising his head, a small smile coming to his lips as Aziraphale's eyes widened as he met his gaze, 'Do you mind? The eyes I mean? And the wings? You've known me look one way for six thousand years. And now...'

Warm lips pressing to his silenced him.

'My darling Crowley,' said Aziraphale, 'My beautiful Raphael. I have told you time and again that I love you, however you choose to look and today you have proven why. Never before have I seen anything so brave. The pain you went through for Warlock, the fact that you offered Gabriel mercy, the trust you showed when you dared to put on that halo once more. Crowley if I hadn't been so terrified of everything that was going on I would have been in awe of you.'

'I was so scared,' said Crowley, freeing a hand to lay on the blankets covering Warlock, 'I should have listened to Michael. It was foolish to go in there without a plan. I was so close to losing you. Losing him. Losing Beelzebub and that's something I never thought I'd fear.'

Aziraphale chuckled, 'Quite,' he said, 'I still don't understand the rest though. The explosions. Did Beelzebub get her demons to infiltrate?'

Crowley shook his head. 'No, even Beelzebub isn't that good,' he said, 'I didn't realise until I saw him myself but he made me realise that Gabriel has forgotten that the angels in Heaven are no longer just those She created before time. Others have been raised up amongst the ranks.'

'Nazareth,' said Aziraphale, 'The mortal son of God.'

'Raised to Her side after his crucifixion,' said Crowley, 'But loyal to Man. He fought for them, suffered for them and died for them. He would hardly stand against them now.'

'But why wait until now?'

'Strategy I would imagine,' said Crowley, 'Gabriel's actions probably took them all by surprise and, if he's ruling through fear of torture, then those wishing to oppose him would have to move carefully. Don't forget the man was a freedom fighter when he was on Earth and he's clever. Gabriel was no doubt crowing about having summoned me and what, in his eyes, I had been reduced to. Opportune moment. I felt someone reaching out to me the moment we arrived and when I saw him, it all made sense. I just hope that he hasn't gone too far and been caught. If he can bring us support it will help us with what's to come. There's still going to be a fight.' 

Aziraphale frowned, 'Perhaps there doesn't have to be,' he said, 'If there is a resistance in Heaven...' 

Crowley shook his head, 'It doesn't alter the prophecies,' he said, 'And they've been accurate so far. The battle shall be fought at home in the garden. It must be Eden. Whatever the final chapter in this, we're facing it in Eden.'

'Back on the road again then,' said Aziraphale, getting to his feet and moving a few steps away before he paused. His shoulders slumped and he sighed. 'I had begun to hope this was over.'

'I know,' said Crowley, following him and gently turning him back to face him. A sad smile crossed his face as he saw the slight flinch on Aziraphale's as he studied his restored eyes once more. 'Do I really look so strange?'

'I'm sorry,' said Aziraphale, 'It's just taking a little getting used to. I've looked into the same eyes for six thousand years and loved them for just as long. I know it's you, my darling and I love you regardless but please give me a little time to get used to it. I don't mean to react but it's so startling and it scares me. The last time you looked like this, I lost you and that fear is a growing knot in my chest every time I see something a little different about you. I can't lose you again. I won't survive it'

'Hey,' said Crowley, capturing his face in his hands, 'Shake that thought off right now. I'm going nowhere. Took me six thousand years to get you in the sack, love, not about to give that up for at least double the waiting period and then some. You, my angel, are very much stuck with me.'

Aziraphale laughed though the worry still lingered in his eyes. 'I'll hold you to that.'

Crowley rested his forehead against his, a small smile on his lips, 'There's part of me that hasn't changed.'

'Crowley!' admonished Aziraphale, 'Really! There's a child in the room.'

The former demon laughed, 'He's asleep and even so, I meant my lips, naughty angel. Get your mind out of the gutter. Wasn't even in possession of one of those until well after the Fall,' he said, 'I was angling for a kiss.'

Aziraphale blushed, 'Oh...well,' he said, raising a hand to his husband's cheek and tracing the pad of his thumb over his soft lower lip, 'That's always yours... and the other as well but a kiss, much more acceptable in public.'

'And when you're done babbling?' said Crowley, quickly cutting off any response with a kiss.

Aziraphale threaded his fingers into the long, red hair as his mind threw up the memory of their first kiss when the Seraph who had chosen him as his heart's companion had chased the taste of honey on his lips. He was certain, six thousand years on, that it was the reason every kiss since had been all the sweeter. 

'You know, there was a betting pool back when I was a kid as to whether you two were together. If I'd been old enough to know about it I should have bet my allowance.'

'Oh my goodness me!' cried Aziraphale, springing back from Crowley as though he had been burned, 'Warlock!'

Crowley chuckled as they both turned to see the boy pushing himself up to sitting in the bed. 'And just how long have you been awake?'

'Long enough to tell you that I'm not a child,' said the boy, 'But I still don't want to see you two snogging.'

The words were spoken with all the bravado of a fifteen year old boy but in the few moments of silence that followed, his face crumpled. Crowley was beside him before he could even be called for, wrapping the boy in a hug that was greedily returned.

'Nanny, my Nanny,' sniffed Warlock, 'Please tell me you're really her.'

Crowley stroked his hair before pulling back enough to capture the boy's gaze, 'I promise you,' he said, 'I'm the same person you knew then, I just look a little different but if it will help...'

There was no click, no summoning of power from Heaven or Hell; just one moment Crowley in his unfamiliar dove grey, long hair spilling down his back and the next the figure of Nanny Ashtoreth, long hair fastened in a neat bun and clothes a more familiar black.

'There now,' said Crowley, 'Better?'

Warlock nodded as best he could, eyes wide at the display before he smiled. 'That's pretty cool. Did you do that every day when I was little?'

'No. I lived in this form for the majority of the time I was with you. It might not be the face I wear everyday but I'm as real like this as I am any other way and I love you, my boy, regardless of how I look.'

Warlock smiled, 'Then I don't mind how you look,' he said, as Crowley's silhouette faded back to the form the boy had woken to, 'And it's cool that you can do that. I always knew you were different, both of you. They hurt you up there, Nanny.'

'All healed now,' said Crowley, easily handling the swift change in Warlock's thoughts, 'I had a few tricks up my sleeve and better me than you.'

Warlock's lips trembled as a shadow of memory fell over his face, 'They said they were going to hurt me if you didn't come,' he said, 'They said you wouldn't, said you were a coward and Azi..Azim...'

'Aziraphale,' said the angel gently, moving to Crowley's side and laying a hand on his shoulder, 'I only wish we were meeting properly under better circumstances. Believe me when I tell you though, there was no doubt about us coming for you the moment we received that phone call. Though I've not been a direct part of your life for many years, I have always enjoyed hearing about you from Crowley when he's been to see you.'

'Crowley,' said Warlock, almost measuring the name before he wrinkled his nose, 'I prefer calling you Nanny.'

'Then keep calling me Nanny,' said Crowley, 'I don't mind in the least. I'm just glad you're safe.'

'You kept me safe,' said Warlock, his eyes moving from Crowley and back to Aziraphale, 'I felt safe when you wrapped your wings around me. Do you only have them when you're there? Are you really angels?'

'We hide our wings most of the time when we're around humans,' said Aziraphale, 'And yes, we're really angels, both of us now.'

'He called Nanny a demon though or are they the same thing? You don't look like the angels in the books.'

'No angel looks how they look in books,' said Crowley, 'And I was a demon. The story is a long one and I don't have time to tell it now. Briefly though, I was created as an angel, one of the Seraphim which is the highest of all the choirs. I fell when Lucifer fell – yes he's real too – and I've spent the last six thousand and some years as a demon. I was even a demon, all be it a forgiven one, when I stepped into Heaven to find you but God had given me back my halo before I left and from the moment I put it on again, I was an angel once more. Aziraphale on the other hand has been perfectly angelic throughout the whole of history.'

Aziraphale laughed, 'Perhaps not perfectly angelic, love, but good enough I suppose.'

'So why did you both come to work for my parents? Do angels need jobs?'

'No, my dear, we don't,' said Crowley, 'Again, the story is long, but we both believed you were the child of Lucifer, sent to Earth to bring about Armageddon and we wanted to prevent that and so we arrived to bring you up with influences from both Heaven and Hell. Turns out, you weren't but you'd captured my heart regardless and I maintained the facade you've known me as, as an excuse to see you.'

Warlock was silent for a moment, his hand finding Crowley's and absently tracing a finger over the back of it, the movement so unconscious Aziraphale was sure it had been a habit since he had been small. 

'So my parents... if you thought I was someone else's son... are they...?'

'Not yours, biologically but that...' began Crowley, but Warlock cut him short.

'Good,' he said, 'Don't care where I'm from but I'm grateful I'm not theirs. I hate them, Nanny, and they hate me.'

'Oh my boy, don't say that, they're your parents. I know things have been hard but...'

'She threw me at them,' said Warlock, 'When that Gabriel and his whip-person came for me, they told my parents they could have whatever they wanted in life if they gave me to them. They didn't hesitate. My so-called mother threw me at them and asked for a yacht. I'm worth less than a boat.'

Aziraphale tightened his grip on his husband's shoulder as he felt the anger rise in him but it didn't stop his words.

'She did what?' hissed Crowley, 'How could she...'

'I told you when I saw you at Claridges that she didn't love me,' said Warlock, 'But you were determined to see the good in her. She's never been a mother to me, not when she realised she wasn't going to do as she planned. Having me was meant to stop my dad sleeping around and working all the time but it didn't. I was meant to be the bright young thing, a bauble or the sportsman but you know I'm neither and they... they never wanted me for me and they've never loved me. I didn't need what she did to prove it but whatever is happening, I don't ever want to go back to them.'

'And you won't have to,' said Aziraphale, the decision made before he was even sure of it himself.

He felt the air around him still, looking down to see Warlock frozen in place even as Crowley turned to face him. Despite the lack of oxygen in the air, Crowley's chest rose and fell, worry, panic and anticipation warring for dominance on his face. 

'Don't,' he said, 'Please don't make him promises unless... he has nowhere else to go.'

Aziraphale smiled, 'Except with us,' he said, brushing the back of his hand against his pale cheek, 'We cannot send him back to a home without love.'

Crowley smiled, a tear breaking loose from his clear golden eye and trailing down onto his husband's fingers. 'Isn't having children something couples are meant to discuss at great length?'

'We raised him,' said Aziraphale, 'And you've made your feelings for him more than apparent. I don't know how good I will be at parenting but I can love him, we can love him and give him the chance to be what he wants to be.'

Crowley looked down at the frozen boy, the room silent with even the voices from the kitchen quieted by the miracle he had woven. 'It's his choice but to be his and for him to be ours, you know it's all I've ever wanted,' he said, 'We can't make any firm promises to him now though, we have work to do and we can't take him with us. It's too dangerous.'

'It is a lot to ask of them, especially given her condition, but Anathema and Newt would take good care of him,' said Aziraphale, 'And, out of everyone in the world, they and the children are the best place to give him at least some idea of who we truly are. Plus Tadfield is protected by Beelzebub's forces and Hastur was quick to react when we arrived. I don't think there would be anywhere safer.'

'Perhaps not but... the Youngs, Adam's parents, they could well be Warlock's. I don't know how the mix up happened but they were there when it did. I... if they found out and he chose... I'm a selfish creature,' said Crowley, hanging his head, 'He might find his true parents here.'

'Maybe they were his parents once but when he thwarted Armageddon, Adam chose the Youngs and his power was such that it altered the world. He is their son and I don't think, even if they were once Warlock's parents, that they would recognise him as their son. We, on the other hand, with no claim on blood, could recognise him as ours.'

Crowley took hold of his hand, caressing the golden band around his finger. 'He is mortal, love,' he said, 'I've wrestled with the thought for years, even with the distance between us. If he was our son, if we have him in our lives then we will have to watch him age and die. We have done it with friends but a child...'

'Will give us so many years of love and happiness and we will always be a constant to him as the world changes,' said Aziraphale, raising their joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of Crowley's, 'I know what is before us but I find that I am willing to face it. I think he was ours the moment we headed to Heaven to retrieve him.'

'Then we can only hope he wants us,' said Crowley, looking back at the boy before the room took a breath and time started itself once more.

Warlock shook his head, 'My ears have gone funny,' he said, 'What did you say?'

'I said, you won't have to,' said Aziraphale, 'There is a lot you need to learn about us, Warlock, and there are things we have to do before we can come back to you but there will always be a home for you with us.'

'You'd want me?' said the boy, dropping his eyes to the covers.

'Oh my darling boy,' said Crowley, capturing his face in his hands and pulling his gaze back to him, 'You are so worthy of love. I can't promise we'll do the best job, we've got used to being selfish but we love you. We raised you. Of course we want you, if you want us.'

Warlock threw his arms around Crowley's neck, the small sobs barely audible to begin with but they soon became too strong to hide. Crowley rocked him gently and Aziraphale was reminded of days spent in the garden at the Dowling's estate, watching from afar as Warlock was rocked to sleep in his Nanny's lap under the cover of the garden umbrella. He had always wanted to go to them, to be part of the warmth and love he could feel even across the space that separated them. There was nothing to stop him now and he reached out a hand to caress the long russet strands of Crowley's hair, feeling the swell of emotions from him as he cradled the child he had loved for so long. 

It was the knock on the door that roused them, Anathema's smiling face appearing in the doorway as she took in the scene.

'Sorry for interrupting but I wanted to see how things were and there is a man waiting for you downstairs, Crowley,' she said, 'Beelzebub seems to know him too and was said you would want to see him. His clothes are a little different to say the least.'

'Thank you,' said Crowley, turning his attention back to Warlock, 'Do you feel strong enough to come down?'

The boy nodded, 'Is everyone like you down there?'

Crowley shook his head, 'No. Anathema here might have the face of an angel but she's all human,' he said, 'Anathema meet Warlock.'

'Nice to meet you,' she said, 'How are you feeling?'

'Ask me again in a couple of days,' he said, 'I'm still not certain that I'm not dreaming all this. Angels were something droned on about in church, not my nanny and my gardener.' 

'To be fair, I was a demon rather than an angel when I was officially your nanny,' said Crowley, 'The angel thing is taking some getting used to.'

'I was going to ask about that,' said Anathema, 'You look different.'

'It's how he looked in Heaven, before the world began,' said Aziraphale, 'Long story.'

'I'll bet,' said Anathema, 'Hastur is still insisting it's not you, Crowley.'

Crowley laughed, 'Used to take him a good month to realise it was me if I cut my hair,' he said, getting to his feet and helping Warlock to stand, 'This will be a little too much for him. Are they behaving?'

'He's...terse,' said Anathema, 'But he has been very vigilant, everyone that was sent has been and the children keep him on his toes. His bad moods are easily managed with a cup of tea and a biscuit.'

Aziraphale sighed, 'I've not had a decent cup of tea since we left England.'

'You're so very British,' said Anathema, 'It's a good job I have the kettle on and I think I may be able to stretch to biscuits as well. I wasn't expecting quite as much company.'

'We are very sorry to have intruded,' said Aziraphale.

'It was the first place that came to mind when I realised we needed a safe haven,' said Crowley, 'And Warlock will need someone until we've defeated Gabriel for good.'

Anathema gave them a wry smile, 'I owe Beelzebub ten pounds,' she said, 'She said you would be asking me to take care of him. Would you mind, Warlock? I know you don't know us but we're happy to have you. Hang around with this lot long enough and you kind of get used to things being weird.'

'Can't I come with you?' said the boy, keeping hold of Crowley's arm as they headed to the door.

Crowley shook his head, 'You can't, it's too dangerous,' he said, 'They could destroy you with a thought if they wanted to. Here at least, you can be protected.'

'But what about you and Aziraphale?'

'We have a few tricks left,' said Crowley, only Aziraphale hearing the uncertainty in his voice.

It seemed to calm Warlock though, the rest of the short journey to the kitchen passing by in comfortable silence. The voices grew in volume, the conversation light with even Hastur's voice not nearly as jarring as it had once been. Aziraphale had not seen the Duke of Hell since his first trip into Hell, the sight of him in Anathema's pretty kitchen somewhat alien but he seemed comfortable there with even the notoriously skittish Newt treating him as though he was a common feature of the house. Beelzebub sat at the table but opposite her was the figure he had expected since Anathema had come to fetch them though he looked more out of place than the rest of them in his sandy robes so many centuries out of date. 

'Found us then,' said Crowley, 'I wasn't sure I got the message to you. It was a bit of a rush. It's been a long time, old friend.'

'A long time indeed for you seem to have gone through a great many changes. When we walked the world together I called you Mistress Crowley.'

'Well, Crowley will do now,' he said, 'Warlock, Anathema, Newt - assuming you've not been introduced – meet Yeshua Hamashiach, Jesus of Nazareth to give him the name you will most likely recognise.'

'Get out!' exclaimed Warlock, before he slapped a hand over his own mouth, 'Sorry. Are you serious? Today is nuts.'

'I like the kid,' said Beelzebub, 'I had wondered what was going on up there. Makes sense now.'

'I'm only glad you were there, my friend,' said Crowley, 'I was grateful for the help. We didn't realise there would be a resistance in Heaven.'

'What Gabriel did to my Heavenly Mother has not sat well with many but we could not move easily, he has many spies and he shows no mercy, many have been hurt. It was when he told us that he had summoned you and this boy was shown as bait that we knew we had to act. The plan was swiftly put together and there has been great cost but we have someone working with us who can get close to Gabriel and gave us enough information to make sure we disabled what we could. There are fifty thousand of us ready to rally to you. We will march for the Prince of Heaven and stand with those who were condemned to Hell.'

Hastur grunted, 'Bit of a kick in the mouth finding out I got booted for fighting for a bunch of angels.'

'You were an angel too at the time,' said Beelzebub, 'Fifty thousand is a welcome number though I would wish for more.'

'There may yet be more,' said Nazareth, 'Most of us who led the charge have fled and will wait for your command. There are others though who are still unknown to Gabriel and we have a direct link to his movements. You will forgive me if I keep their identity quiet. I would happily trust you all but walls have ears.'

'If they keep giving us information then they can stay as nameless as you like,' said Crowley, 'We need to plan our next move and then get back to the others. Gabriel is not going to take what happened lightly. He will want revenge.'

'Guess I'd better make another pot of tea,' said Anathema as they settled themselves around her kitchen table.

xxxx

'I'm beginning to understand why Beelzebub felt sick,' said Michael, holding a hand to her stomach as she pressed her head against the pillow in an effort to stop the room moving so much, 'I don't like these waves. Anything?'

Lucifer dropped his head down from where it rested against the headboard, looking down at the phone in his lap. 'Nothing yet,' he said, 'Something is happening though. I can taste miracles in the weather.'

'I wish She was awake,' said Michael, looking over to where God sat in the chair beside the balcony window, Her eyes closed as She slept fitfully.

'Whatever is happening up there is affecting Her,' said Lucifer, 'Until we know what is going on though I don't want to try to wake Her again, it seemed to hurt last time we tried.'

'Is She fading? Are we losing Her?'

Lucifer shook his head, 'She still feels strong,' he said, 'Who can tell how these things work upon Her though. She is not the same as us.'

Michael buried her face back in the pillow with a groan. 'I'm scared,' she said, flinching as Lucifer's hand moved to rest against her shoulder.

'Me too. Sensible to be. Everything is changing,' said Lucifer, 'Even if we prevail, everything will be different. Heaven and Hell will not be the same but I'm glad of it, I have lived alone with the truth for so long.'

'Not any more,' said Michael, 'If I can return to Heaven after this, I will ensure our sides work together. If I can't then I trust Crowley and Aziraphale to work to the same.'

Lucifer tightened his grip on her shoulder, 'You're getting back to Heaven. You're an angel. Your wings don't define that.'

'I don't...' Michael began before she sat up, though she kept her eyes trained on the covers, 'I don't want to be an angel again, not like I was. I never realised how cold I was or how alone. Seeing Aziraphale and Crowley, how close they are and I don't even mean romantically, just their friendship, I want that. I want a friend, someone who knows me so well that I don't even need to speak. There was no question in Aziraphale's head the moment Crowley said he wanted to save Warlock, even before he said it aloud, he was with him regardless of the risk. I want someone who will fight for me like that and who I can fight for too. Gabriel, he... for so long he made friendship...love for anything other than God something that should be avoided, despised and then he did what he did and I was thrown down and they... they held their hands out to me within moments despite what I'd done. I'm sorry, I'm rambling.'

Pale fingers tucked beneath her chin, turning her gaze up to the piercing red eyes before her. 'It's alright. Sometimes things are better said. I know all too well the pain of being forced to keep silent,' said Lucifer, 'And I might not know what you want before you speak it but I'm willing to learn. We were friends in Heaven, we could be friends again now. It's not as if an angel and a demon doesn't have precedence. I may be the master of Hell but I'm not all bad.'

Michael laughed, 'Most would argue that I'm not all good either,' she said, 'And if I'm going to try to be a better friend, I'm happy I get to start again with you.'

'Me too. I...'

The shrill ringing made them both jump, Lucifer almost dropping the phone that lay forgotten in his hand. 

'Anathema,' he said, 'That's Crowley's witch woman, he said she'd call if... my son.'

'Answer it,' said Michael, 'Quickly.'

Lucifer opened the call, holding the phone to his ear, 'This is Lucifer,' he said before he smiled, 'Brother! Where are you?'

xxxx

Crowley shook his head, the odd press of the headache behind his eyes not helping his concentration as he tried to focus on the words being spoken at the table. Beelzebub appeared to have found a welcome ally in the young Nazareth, his experiences as a freedom fighter during his time on earth augmenting her own sharp minded battle plans. He turned to look at the chair beside him, Warlock watching the scene with wide eyes but far more relaxed than he would have been without the miracle Crowley had woven into his healing but he still wanted to give the boy longer to recover himself away from so many jarring influences. 

A warm arm behind him gave him some grounding, Aziraphale keeping close to his other side, supportive and familiar as Crowley tried to adjust to the sensations overtaking him since he had accepted his former power. He could feel it singing beneath his skin, the sensation one he had known without concern in Heaven but now felt alien. The pain that he had lived with since the Fall had disappeared, the ache that had been in his bones for so long it had become a part of his life now absent and he felt too light as though the very elements that made him were wanting to fly apart.

The ache in his head increased again, trying to pull his gaze away from the table despite the discussions he wanted to be a part of. He finally gave in to it, turning until his eyes settled on the wall at the far side of the kitchen where a large world map was pinned to the wall, dotted with small flags and Anathema's notes on whatever project had prompted the display. It was her voice that questioned him first as he got to his feet, following the pull that drew him towards the wall. 

'Crowley? Are you alright? You're shaking.'

He heard footsteps behind him, Aziraphale's hand slipping into his but he did not try to hold him back.

'Crowley? What's the matter?'

'Something wants me to look at the map,' he said, his voice sounding distant to his own ears, 'It's important.'

He saw the outline of his husband as he moved in front of him but the map remained his goal even as Aziraphale regarded him with concern.

'Your eyes! My love, your eyes are black. What's happening?'

'I'm alright, angel,' he said, 'Just... mind out. The map.'

'What about the map?'

'Aziraphale, what's the matter with Nanny?'

'I'm fine, Warlock,' said Crowley, as he reached the wall, 'Just hush for a minute all of you.'

The odd, flattened structure of the globe stretched out before him, blues and greens criss-crossed with lines of latitude and longitude. His eyes drifted over it, the path one he had no control over but he let whatever instinct taking hold of him lead his gaze. 

'Eden,' he breathed, 'We were searching for Eden. Africa. I remember... they walked east when they left, I followed. I didn't make the sea. She made the sea. The glorious sea.'

'What is he doing?' growled Hastur, 'I don't like poetry.'

'Shut up!' snapped Beelzebub, 'Not helping.'

'What part of hush did you lot not get!' said Crowley, 'Eden and then the sea. We went east, from the gate. They turned back, moved back inland. Into Africa but the sea...'

He traced a finger across the map until he felt a pull, dragging him towards the eastern coast of Africa. It paused with a ferocity that forced back the nail, the sharp pain lessening as certainty settled in his mind. 

'Kenya,' he said, 'Eden is in Kenya.'

'Kenya? You're certain?' said Aziraphale.

'Completely,' said Crowley, stepping back from the map as the pressure in his head lessened, 'It's there. I'm sure. I can feel it... feel her.'

'Who's her?' said Warlock, 'Who's Eden?'

'The Garden of Eden, dear,' said Aziraphale, 'Crowley made it and we need to get there.'

'You need to be certain of this, Crowley,' said Beelzebub, 'We haven't got time to waste.'

'I built that garden from the raw firmament of the Earth. She spoke to me then and she's calling me now. I know it sounds crazy but something about me... this me... has opened that communication again. I need you to trust me. We need to get to the others.'

'And what do we do in the meantime?' said Hastur, 'Now the prophecy has been fulfilled are we needed here?'

'Adam could still be at risk,' said Aziraphale, 'Gabriel will be looking for any weakness. You and your people need to protect them still.'

'And you've done a fine job up until now,' said Anathema, 'I know we've all felt better with you nearby.'

'Even if you do eat all our biscuits,' said Newt.

'You may need to do some more shopping,' said Crowley, 'Nazareth, I want you to stay here as well, once we've found Eden I'll send for you and whoever you have with you that's up for a fight. In the meanwhile, do what you do best, spread the Word, Her Word. Let's get Earth behind God again, we'll need the boost. The children can help, including Warlock, social media has a much wider net than word of mouth.'

Beelzebub chuckled, 'You're broadcasting the second coming on a phone?'

'Why not?' said Crowley, turning to Warlock, 'What do you think? Reckon you could get it to go viral?'

'I can try,' said the boy, 'I'll need a computer.'

'You can use mine,' said Anathema, 'And we'll introduce you to Adam and the others in the morning. I reckon between you, you'll manage it.'

'Time to get moving then,' said Crowley, 'Anathema, can I borrow your phone?'

She reached into her pocket and handed him the device, Crowley quickly tapping on the screen before the sound of a call connecting echoed from the speaker.

'This is Lucifer,' came the response as it finally connected.

'Good to hear your voice,' said Crowley.

'Brother! Where are you?'

'Tadfield. We got Warlock out, he's going to stay with our friends here, thought we'd give Hastur another one to worry about. I'll bring you up to speed when we get there. For now, put the phone somewhere flat and stand back. We're coming through.'


	24. Moving On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the very long delay, I've been taking my daughter to extra Taekwon-do classes in preparation for what should have been her first fight this Sunday but the damned corona-fuck-it-all-the-world's-gone-to-hell-virus, has meant the event has been cancelled. One of those things when you're an adult but for a five year old who has put her heart and soul into her training for the last three months it has been pretty devastating. Anyway, enough of my woes, everyone on the planet has enough of their own. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Crowley set the phone on the kitchen table, encouraging those sat around it to move aside, save for Aziraphale and Beelzebub who he drew close beside him. 

'We're going to use the phone to get back to them,' he said, 'I've done it before. A miracle but not such an obvious one if Heaven is watching. I want time to bring them all up to speed before we head on to Eden. Hastur, you, Dagon and the others keep doing what you've been doing, Adam could still come under threat and I need you to protect Warlock for me, please.'

Hastur didn't answer, instead he turned his gaze to Beelzebub who glared back in response.

'You protect them all like they were your own or you'll answer to me,' she said, 'I'll be asking them for reports on your efficiency.' 

'The rest of you know what to do,' he said, 'We'll stay in contact as best we can. Just look after each other.'

'Wait!'cried Warlock, pushing passed Beelzebub and taking hold of Crowley's hand, 'Please don't go without me. I can't... Nanny, please take me with you.'

Crowley cupped the boy's cheek in his hand, 'I can't, not this time,' he said, 'It's too dangerous. Stay here and help everyone to get the world back on our side. I'll come back for you, I promise. Anathema and Newt will take care of you, you couldn't be in safer hands.'

Warlock sniffed, biting back the tears in a room full of strangers, 'I only just got you back.'

'I know. I don't want to leave you but when we come back, this will be over and we can be a family. You, me and Aziraphale, like we promised.'

'I'll keep him safe for you, Warlock,' said Aziraphale, 'But for now, Crowley's right, here is safer for you. Let us do what we need to and then we'll come home.'

Warlock dropped Crowley's hand but only to allow him to hug them both, his thin frame shaking with the tears he was still holding back. Aziraphale wrapped one arm around the boy and the other around his husband, feeling familiar shudders in his body and he knew, despite both their promises, that they were still risking being unable to return. At first he paid no mind to the tinkling sound of something hitting the floor around them but Beelzebub's gasp roused Aziraphale from their embrace. 

He looked down at their feet, seeing the glitter of clear and ruby stones. His mind conjured the memory of when he had seen them before, shining in the white light of Heaven and scooped up by the angels to fashion diadems. The jewelled tears of the Prince of Heaven. 

'Crowley,' he said, stooping to pick several up and holding them in his hand, 'Look.'

Crowley paled slightly as he regarded them but soon shook it off. 'Well it wasn't as though we wanted for money before,' he said, taking the stones and waving a hand over them, setting them within a silver pendant on a chain with the largest ruby stone surrounded by several smaller diamonds. 'Wear this for me.'

He fastened the pendant around Warlock's neck before pressing a kiss to his forehead. The boy nodded, straightening as he stepped back from them, unspoken consent to their leaving though it cost him to do so and Aziraphale was glad as Anathema laid a hand on his shoulder, both in comfort and tight enough to hold him back should he try to follow them as they left.

'We need to move,' said Beelzebub, 'Time still isn't our friend.'

Crowley took hold of Aziraphale's hand before holding out another for Beelzebub, laughing as she wrinkled her nose before taking hold of him. 'We're changing our physicality,' he said, 'But keep this connection in mind and we shouldn't lose each other. Ready?'

'Just get on with it,' said Beelzebub, 'I don't do hand holding.'

'On my mark then,' said Crowley before he raised his voice to the rest of the room, 'Look after each other. We'll be in touch. Ready, jump!'

If Aziraphale was pressed to describe the sensations of travelling via the phone line then he would be inspired to use words such as sickening, terrifying, and something-he-had-no-desire-to-do-ever-again-in-his-eternal-existence. He was grateful therefore when he hit the floor a little harder than intended, his corporation thankfully reforming itself to his preferred silhouette as he shook off the dizziness. 

'What the Heaven happened to you?' cried Lucifer, almost knocking Aziraphale aside as he hurried to Crowley, 'You look like you again. You...you're an...'

'Angel, once more.'

'You're awake,' said Michael, as God rose from Her chair and crossed the room.

A silence followed as God moved passed them all until She stood before Crowley. For a moment She hesitated before She raised a hand to his cheek. Crowley allowed the touch, clear, golden eyes meeting Hers before he surprised all those gathered by covering Her hand with his own and pressing his cheek into the touch. 

'My beautiful child,' said God, 'Thank you for believing in me again.'

'You kept Your word,' said Crowley, 'That was all I asked of You. I was so afraid of this power, of what it meant but not any more.'

'It is yours, as it always should have been,' She said, 'Did you recover your child?'

Crowley nodded, stepping back from Her touch but with no urgency, only to bring in those others in the room. 'He's fine. A little shaken and I think Anathema may have a rough time or two as he comes to terms with things, we didn't have very long to tell him the truth about us and his imprisonment by Gabriel wasn't pleasant. The sooner we can get back to him, the better.'

Michael frowned, 'Wouldn't his parents be best placed to aid him?'

'We are his parents,' said Aziraphale, the beam of Crowley's smile at the words settling any nerves in announcing such, 'At least, we intend to be. His parents have rejected him and we were there when he was a child, it seemed...'

'There is no need to justify yourselves to us, Aziraphale,' said God, Her small hand taking gentle hold of his wrist in comfort, 'I think you will make very fine parents if it is what young Warlock truly wants.'

Lucifer laughed, 'You don't hang about do you?' he said, 'Anything else to share? Did you adopt a cat or something, Beelzebub, just to even the score?'

'No but I found Hastur has been tamed by a mortal woman, I think she terrifies him into submission,' she replied, 'We do have news on the war effort though, we had help in Heaven.'

God's eyes widened, looking between all of them, 'Help?' She said before Her face fell, 'I knew they would rise for their prince.'

Crowley took hold of Her free hand, 'Not for me,' he said, 'They helped us up there but they are fighting for You. They couldn't act when Gabriel overthrew them, it was too much, too fast and there was such confusion and since then he has ruled by fear. They have been working though and You should be able to guess who leads them. Who else would fight for You and humankind?'

'My son?' She said, a tear breaking from her eye, 'I was so afraid... I thought he had abandoned me. When no one spoke...'

'They were scared,' said Aziraphale, his eyes straying unbidden to Michael as she took a step closer to Lucifer, the memory of her own fear flickering across her face, 'But he is with us now, along with fifty thousand who will come when we are ready for them. I don't think we would have survived Heaven without their aid. I only hope Gabriel isn't too cruel if he captures anyone that helped us.'

'We'd be better pressed to get on to Kenya than hoping for miracles we can't control,' said Beelzebub.

'Kenya?' said Michael, 'Why Kenya?'

'Eden,' said Crowley, 'At least I think so. I...saw it, it's hard to explain but since I took on my halo, I've been able to feel it. I can sense it. Something is pulling me towards that part of the world.'

'Well we've been heading in that general direction,' said Lucifer, 'And it's a better lead than we've had so far. The problem still exists of finding it. It's not been seen by man, angel or demon since Adam and Eve were turned away and it was concealed.'

'And I do not have the strength to unveil it, even if we do find it,' said God, 'I am not what I once was, even if there is some belief in me remaining.'

'But perhaps I can,' said Crowley, before he smiled, 'I know I can. She's mine. We need to move quickly though, Gabriel will be all the more determined to stop us now and there are more at risk.'

'Can we risk a miracle?' said Michael, 'Transport ourselves there. We're looking at days travel still otherwise.'

'Even if we have a country,' said Lucifer, 'Kenya is vast. It'll take days to find Eden.'

'The closer we get, the stronger the sensations will be I think,' said Crowley, 'And, if memory serves, it took me two days to walk from the gates of Eden to the sea. I didn't fly, I wanted to keep the humans in sight so if we find the coast and move inland by two days...'

'Then we're still facing a vast country but I suppose it's closer than we are now,' said Michael, 'The question is how we go about going. A miracle is quicker but we can't guarantee we'll all hit the same place and we don't want to be separated, plus God and I will both need to go with someone and that will make things harder.'

'Then we fly,' said Lucifer, 'Leave as Crowley and the others did. Less likely to be detected, not quite so exhausting...'

'A flight to Kenya!' exclaimed Aziraphale before he blushed and dropped his gaze to his shoes, 'Sorry...continue... I'll just...'

Crowley reached out and took his hand, 'Don't worry.'

Lucifer's lips twitched in a half smile before he continued, 'Again though Michael and God will need assistance which will make progress a little slower.'

'I think perhaps,' said God, stepping back from them a little, 'That I may not need help. When I made you, I carved myself an image to match. One to wear when I walked with you. When I visited the stars with you.'

Crowley gasped, 'You had... they were different, but you had wings.'

'And now they believe. Now they have proven there is some hope then I feel stronger and you, my child, your faith means so much. I can try.'

Her eyes closed, concentration on Her face before the air crackled and gossamer wings spread from Her back, shimmering far brighter than any angel's even at their full power and even Aziraphale was forced to turn his eyes away. He risked a look at Crowley though, seeing his husband looking upon God without even a flinch, memory playing all over his handsome face before he spoke.

'I could almost feel young again,' he said, 'Eden grew in all its glory a long while after You last looked like this.'

'I cannot remember what it is to feel young,' said God, 'But it is good to feel a little of my power again. You can risk to look, children.'

The glow that surrounded Her dimmed and Aziraphale turned his eyes back to Her, Beelzebub and Michael following suit before Lucifer finally dared to do so, a similar look of memory passing over his face though it bore more pain than Crowley's had. The wings moved as though blown by a breeze, trailing down to the floor as She folded them neatly behind Her back. It would have been easy even then to get lost in the sight of them but Aziraphale's eyes followed their usual pull towards his husband but the sight that greeted him was not one he was expecting. Crimson blood stained the collar of the dove grey jacket that had replaced his usual black clothes, the wound that had been caused by Sandalphon's whip reopening.

'Crowley,' he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it to the cut, 'I thought you'd healed this.'

'So did I,' said Crowley with a hiss, 'Maybe I'm not as good as I think I am. Why does it hurt more when you know it's there?'

'Just keep still?' said Aziraphale, gently removing the handkerchief and frowning at the wound, 'This is deep. It needs healing. Can we risk a miracle?'

'Only if we're ready to leave,' said Lucifer, 'It should be minor enough to be missed but I'd rather we were on our way once Gabriel is aware of it.'

'We'd best head up to the top if we want to get away without being seen,' said Michael, 'The sun is already up and the humans won't be far behind.'

'Can you make it?' said Aziraphale, receiving a dark look in return.

'I am not made of glass,' said Crowley, taking any sting from his words with a smile, 'Just hold my hand and I'll be fine.'

Aziraphale took hold of his hand, the rest of those gathered collecting up the few meagre possessions they needed with them, along with the weapons they had retrieved from the Vatican though the hope that they would prove useful in the fight was slowly diminishing. Michael led them all up to the deck they had left from before, giving a brief nod to Aziraphale as she turned to watch the door back into the interior of the ship. Aziraphale pulled the blood soaked cloth from Crowley's neck, disposing of it with a thought before he pressed his fingers to the wound, healing it without effort and leaving the skin pristine and fresh. 

The wind was soon caught in the rustle of feathers, all those with wings extending them in the rising dawn, leaving only Michael who was swiftly swept up into Lucifer's arms, the expected protests at having to be so treated failing to come but no one said anything. It was God who first took flight, shimmering wings almost disappearing in the light of the rising sun but they carried Her all the same. Crowley followed, great silver wings dwarfing the others but he turned as soon as he was air born, Aziraphale flying up to take the hand he offered him, finding himself tucked close to his husband's side as they had once flown amongst the stars and barely having to move his own wings as Crowley flew for the both of them. He glanced back to see Beelzebub leave the deck, Lucifer and Michael the last to leave but he could not keep his eyes on them, something in the sight of an angel in the arms of the master of Hell both jarring and achingly familiar and he instead press closer to Crowley as they pressed on with their journey.

xxxx

'Hey kid, how are you getting on?' said Anathema, tapping on the bedroom door before stepping inside to find Warlock sat on the bed, staring at the necklace in his hand.

He looked up with a watery smile, hastily brushing away the telling tears on his cheeks, 'Ok I guess,' he said, 'Just... lots of...'

Anathema smiled, 'I know. You'll get used to a great deal of lots of with Crowley and Aziraphale,' she said, 'First time I met them I knew there was something about them, little did I know. You've been through a lot in a few short days but if you want to talk, Newt and I are in a good place to listen. To be fair, I'm glad we have someone else to talk to as well, I've got Jesus of Nazareth sat at my kitchen table talking to my husband about the invention of electricity.'

Warlock laughed weakly, 'I've seen a few weird things in my time but, yeah, bit odd,' he said, fastening the pendant around his neck once more, 'I just wish Nanny and Aziraphale didn't have to hurry off like that. I have so many questions.'

'And they'll be back to answer them, I'm sure,' said Anathema, 'And in the meantime, we need to help them where we can. They need our support. Now it's a half decent time of the day, how about we go out and meet Adam and his friends. They're your age and I know you'll like them. Then we can pop into town, it's only twenty minutes drive, and we can get you some clothes. Crowley and Aziraphale are already running up a good list of expenses with me so you can go wild if you like.'

'I've had enough of overpriced clothes,' said Warlock, 'But I suppose I can't stay like this forever. Are you sure Nanny and Aziraphale won't mind?'

'Kid I have seen you and them together for about the grand total of twenty minutes and I can safely say that if you asked them for every star in the sky they'd give it to you,' said Anathema, 'And knowing them, they probably could too.'

Warlock smiled, 'I always knew she was special. Nanny...Crowley. I suppose you call him he.'

Anathema shrugged, 'I guess technically he's neither but he's always looked that way to me. You just stick to what you're comfortable with and have the conversation with Crowley when he's back, ok?'

Warlock nodded. 'Can we go and see Adam now?' he asked, 'I'm hungry too.'

'There's a cafe near the church,' said Anathema, 'We can get something to eat and I'll text him to meet us there. I suppose I better see if Jesus can fit into some of Newt's things, the robe thing isn't exactly going to look inconspicuous.'

'A phrase I bet you thought you'd never say.'

Anathema shrugged, 'I don't know. Even before the end of the world, my life was pretty strange.'

'I could say the same,' said Warlock, before his face fell, 'I hope they're ok.'

'They will be,' said Anathema, 'Now come on, before Newt demonstrates electricity, something that never ends well.'

Warlock climbed off the bed and followed her to the door, his hand reaching beneath his collar to briefly take hold of his pendant before they headed towards the kitchen. 

The journey into the village was uneventful, Newt's clothes thankfully giving Anathema's heavenly charge at least an air of normality though he still pulled several looks but Warlock was unsure whether it was Anathema's clothes that were truly attracting them. He was glad, whichever way it went, that it was not him that was being looked at for once in his life, enjoying the freedom of not being watched by the secret service whose only concern was the price that could be put on his head rather than his welfare. 

He knew there were still eyes on him, Anathema having spoken to the demon that had been introduced as Hastur the night before as they left the house. He remembered him from the time he had been dragged to Meddigo by his former mother and father, blushing as he remembered his own conduct back then though Hastur at least seemed inclined to forget it, merely promising that he was only a word away should they run into any unwanted heavenly attention. 

The thoughts of the forces surrounding them made him shudder but he shook it off as he heard the ringing of bicycle bells followed by the sound of voices his own age. Four figures rounded the corner, a small dog running behind them but swiftly passing them as it leapt towards Anathema with a happy bark.

'Hey you,' she said, bending down to fuss the dog, 'Brought the rabble with you I see.'

'Who are you calling rabble?' said one of the boys in the group, brushing a fringe of curls back from his face, 'Dagon said you had visitors last night. Was it something to do with that weird storm? Have you heard from Aziraphale and Crowley? Have they kicked Gabriel's butt yet? Who are the new guys?'

'Alright twenty questions,' said the girl in the party, 'Let them speak. I'm Pepper, by the way, and he's Adam. That's Wensleydale and Brian. Who are you?'

'Hang on!' said Adam, his gaze turned to Warlock, 'I know who you are. You're the American boy, Crowley and Aziraphale thought was me. I've seen your picture on Crowley's phone. Warlock, isn't it?'

Warlock nodded, 'Yeah, that's me.'

'That's awesome,' said Wensleydale, 'You're the anti-Anti-Christ.'

'Actually,' said Warlock, nodding to where Jesus stood, bright eyes amused by the exchange before him, 'That's him.'

'Who?' said Wensleydale.

'The anti-Anti-Christ.'

'How's he the anti-Anti-Christ?' said Pepper.

Anathema grinned, 'He's Christ.'

'Get out!' shouted Adam, 'Seriously? Are we meant to...I don't know... bow?'

'Actually,' said Brian, 'You're sort of cousins...or is he your uncle?'

'I think our family tree is somewhat more confused than that,' said the man in question, 'But it is something to discuss another day. We have been given a task to do and you young people, I am told, will be the best source of help.'

'What are we going to do?' said Adam.

'Crowley wants you to break the internet,' said Newt, 'Get everyone back on God's side.'

Adam frowned, 'How are we going to do that?'

'I...' began Warlock, hesitating before he pressed on, 'I have a few ideas. I'm homeschooled, get bored a lot, so I've done a bit of hacking and started a few online conspiracies, normally with Nanny's... Crowley's influence. I can help, I think. I want to help.'

'Hacking?' said Adam, sharing a look with his friends, 'Sounds like you're going to fit right in. Where do we start?'

'We start by getting a cup of tea and making a plan,' said Anathema, 'And cake. Definitely cake.'

'Tea with Jesus Christ,' said Pepper, 'Would like to say that isn't a standard Saturday but...'

'Makes a change from GCSE coursework,' said Adam, 'And if Anathema is buying the cake, we'd better get started.'

'You'll be well placed not to follow this one's example when it comes to his cheek,' said Anathema, laying a hand on Warlock's shoulder as she steered them towards the cafe, 'But if Crowley had a hand in raising you, I reckon that ship has already sailed. Shall we?'

It was not a common picture, five teenagers, a dog, a witch, a man, and the son of God heading towards a picturesque cafe in a village just outside of Oxford but not one resident batted an eyelid. They had all seen plenty already and the air hummed with the promise that there was a lot more to come.


	25. The Warrior and the Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. Hope you're all keeping safe right now. I'm in the UK so in lock down with my 5 year old and husband in our tiny house but we're making it work. I'm trying to balance home schooling and working for a theatre from home (not very easy to do!) but still finding time for some writing both here and on my original stuff. If any of you are on tumblr and would like to join me there you can find me at witchnova221 - pop over and say hi. Take care xx

The great land mass beneath them was glorious. The continent of Africa was not one Crowley had spent much of the modern era in but, as he watched the landscape stretch out before him, he was determined to remedy the error. He tightened his arm around his husband, feeling the warm brush of his wing against his own, the two of them having comfortably flown tandem for hours with the power in Crowley's vast wings. He revelled in the rush of love he felt, the sensation one he had known in Heaven but then denied him when he was damned. The restoration of his grace had allowed him to feel it once more, the sensation augmenting the love he felt from Aziraphale in the mortal sense and he felt almost drunk on the power of it. 

'Are you getting tired?' came Aziraphale's voice, cutting through his thoughts, 'I can fly alone for a while if you like.'

'Not in the least,' said Crowley, 'And you're not going anywhere. I want you close.'

'Why?' said Aziraphale, tensing in his grip, 'Is something wrong?'

Crowley laughed, 'No. I just want to hold you. This is the most peace and quiet we've had in ages and we don't know what's in front of us,' he said, 'Indulge me.'

'Don't I always?'

'Point taken,' said Crowley, before his tone changed, 'The ultimate indulgence being just before we left Tadfield. I know we spoke but it was only brief and I want to be sure...'

'Darling,' said Aziraphale, cutting him off, 'I would not have made the promise to Warlock if I were not serious. I admit, the thought hadn't truly crossed my mind as a possibility but there is no doubt now that I want to be his parent, just as you do. It will take some getting used to and we will have to change a lot of things but I find, the more I think on it, the more exciting the prospect becomes. I want to build a home where he feels safe and appreciated, something I fear has been very lacking with the Dowlings.' 

'Well you're very good at that,' said Crowley, 'I have never felt safer than when I'm with you in the bookshop.'

Aziraphale hummed contentedly, pressing a little closer to his side. 'You'll have to give up the spare room. No more walk in wardrobe.'

'A sacrifice I am just about prepared to make,' said Crowley, 'It's for our family after all. I...'

'What is it?' said Aziraphale, as Crowley trailed off, 'What's the matter?'

'I can hear...can you fly on your own for a while?'

Aziraphale slipped from beneath his arm, turning in the air to face him, 'What's happening?'

Crowley's eyes were wide and black as they had been in Tadfield, head turned to the breeze, long strands of red hair blowing up in the air currents. 'We're close.'

'Eden?' said Aziraphale as Crowley folded his wings before flaring them, the snap in the air enough to draw the attention of those around them. 

Soon they were surrounded, the dark wings of Lucifer and Beelzebub providing a back drop for God's shimmering wings. Even Michael, reliant on Lucifer to keep her in the air, sat as straight as she could in his arms, all of them poised for whatever Crowley had summoned them to hear. Before anyone could speak though, God smiled, meeting Crowley's eyes with an understanding that was beyond the rest of them.

'You hear it too?' he asked.

'I do,' she said, 'It's like...memory. The voices of the ages.'

'Hear what?' said Lucifer, 'I hear nothing. Michael?'

'Neither do I,' said Michael, 'Beelzebub?'

'Nothing at all,' she answered, 'All I can hear is the earth and the wind in our wings. What else is there?'

'Too long to explain,' said Crowley, 'But we're there. Follow me.'

With a flap of the great silver wings, Crowley sped towards the horizon, God close behind him as they followed the sound only they could hear. Lucifer followed after a word to Michael that went unheard by the others, keeping a decent pace despite having her in his arms. Aziraphale tried to follow suit but before too long even the Lord of Hell was much further from him than was comfortable. He cursed his own inability, so caught up with thoughts of his own pace that he startled when another wing brushed against his own.

'I'm carrying half the weapons,' said Beelzebub, holding up a hand as she realised she had alarmed him, 'Sorry. They should really be waiting for us, the show offs.'

Aziraphale managed half a smile, 'That's what I called Crowley in Heaven. He was a right show off then too,' he said before he sighed, 'I was never much of a flyer.'

Beelzebub shrugged, 'Never really broken any records for speed myself,' she said, 'Way I look it, the ones that rush ahead are the ones who can deal with the mess first.'

'Or face danger first,' said Aziraphale, wings trying and failing to carry him a little faster.

'Wipe that panic off your face,' said Beelzebub, 'Your Crowley is as tough as old boots and then some.'

'Well he certainly gives that impression,' said the angel, 'But appearances and all that. Every time I think I have worked out what is happening to him, he... well...'

'No, I understand,' said Beelzebub, 'You can know someone your whole life, think you know all there is to know and then something happens and they're suddenly stood in a very different light.'

Aziraphale heard the unfamiliar sadness in her voice, looking over to question her but seeing her eyes focused ahead of them. He was certain it was not Crowley or God that she spoke of and he felt something in him twist, not managing to school his features as she looked back at him and grimaced.

'Oh don't be ridiculous!' she hissed, 'I'm not in love with him. I was however his right hand for a very long time and now he's starting to rely on someone else.'

'He and Crowley were once the highest choir...'

Beelzebub laughed, 'It is not Crowley who has succeeded me, Aziraphale,'she said, 'Whilst they may plot and plan their future Heaven and Hell together, Lucifer has come to rely on another even more and she on him.'

'Ah, you have seen what I have seen then.'

'Anyone with a set of eyes and half a brain has seen it,' said Beelzebub, 'Although I'm not sure if they do.'

'Quite,' said Aziraphale, 'I would offer a word of advice but my closest friend was also the one who went one to become my husband.'

'And that is one thing I have no desire for Lucifer to be. I cannot fathom the need for that kind of relationship but there was a time, though it was done in snarls and commands, that he would seek me and my counsel.'

'And he will again,' said Aziraphale, before movement ahead caught his attention beyond the fading silhouettes of those flying ahead of them, 'Is it my eyes or is there something wrong with the sky?'

'Desert haze maybe,' said Beelzebub, 'We should get to the others. God isn't armed and Lucifer has Michael. They will need our aid if anything is amiss.'

She didn't wait for his agreement, a flap of her own wings increasing their pace and Aziraphale pushed to follow her, wings joints unused to sustained flight protesting at the work but he ignored the pain. He was soon alongside Beelzebub once more, the two of them drawing close enough to those ahead to see them clearly, the haze however still refused to reveal its origin and Aziraphale felt a chill run up his spine at what it could be. He did not have time to think on it though as Crowley raised an arm and then pointed downwards, all of them following his descent.

Aziraphale was glad of the ground, his wings protesting viciously as he steadied his landing. The grass was tall, dried by the sun and the harshness of the climate but he felt the memory and the grace that still lived in the land that had been the great cradle of humanity. He took a moment to recover himself before turning to his companions. Beelzebub was at his side, wings already hidden from view as she righted her clothes, the softness he had seen in their flight replaced by the visage most knew her for. Lucifer lowered Michael to the ground, hand lingering on her arm as though steadying her though she didn't appear to need it. God's iridescent wings were hidden the moment her feet touched the floor, blonde hair glinting in the sun as She stretched, toes curling in Her boots as though the very ground was giving Her strength.

With the pull that always existed, Aziraphale's eyes fell upon his husband. Long, russet curls caught the faint breeze, reminding him of the fiery halo that had once surrounded him on a whim, beautiful and terrifying in the form he had been born to. A wave of his hand brought the great staff from the ether, giving him a strength and presence that had him looking almost on par with his creator. Golden eyes, full of the memory of Heaven, turned to him, the smile that followed the same that had greeted him on the day of his creation. His breath caught. The most beautiful angel, that's what he had though him in heaven and beyond, when his divinity had been stripped from him and he had found him again on the wall of Eden, anonymous and alien but something had drawn them together. The love that had shone so brilliantly in Heaven guiding them back. 

Crowley crossed the short distance between them, taking Aziraphale's hand with his free one.

'Angel, can you feel it?' he said, 'We're so close. We were here once, so long ago.'

Aziraphale looked around him, 'This is Eden?'

'No, honoured Principality, but you are close.'

The voice caused even Lucifer to jump. Crowley was the only one to keep his bearing, turning towards the sound and the warrior that headed towards them. There was knowledge in the eyes of the man, recognising them even without their wings.

'A warrior of the Maasai?' said Lucifer.

'Yes, Light Bringer,' answered the warrior, 'We have waited and watched for many years, since our great Mother stepped forth into these lands.'

'Your mother?' said Michael, looking between Lucifer and the warrior, 'I don't understand.'

'Mother Eve, great Archangel,' said the warrior, 'We are descendants of her true line and bound to protect the Garden that had once been her home. Every generation has awaited you. Her teachings said one day you would come, return to claim the Garden and we were to serve the Star Maker. Most glorious Raphael, Prince of Heaven, who fell for love and brought knowledge to us, I am yours to command.'

The poise that had come to Crowley since he had accepted his halo once more fled him in an instant, golden eyes widening as he took in the warrior before him.

'How...how did you know?' he said, 'No one knew. It was never in any doctrine, even the angels didn't know. How does he know?'

The last question was directed at God, the hurt and fear in Crowley's eyes returning as clearly as it had been when She had awoken in the cottage in England. 

'What game have You been playing?' he hissed, 'After all this, after all the promises and empty words, you've led us on some merry dance to here? Did you plan this? We have fought, been injured. My Warlock was abducted, hurt and then I had to stand the tortures of Heaven to save him. All that and you...'

'I don't know anything about this,' She said, 'I promise you, Crowley, I don't know.'

'Then how...'

The warrior chuckled, silencing the argument before it could escalate. 'We are told things by those who know you, my Prince, and you will know them before the end,' he said, before he turned to God with a small bow, 'Mother of All, we serve your children and bear you no ill will. These lands still sing for you, even as Heaven turns away.'

God cast her eye over the warrior before she frowned, 'You are fully human, yet you talk like one of my angels.'

'You cast our Mother in their image,' said the warrior, turning his head as a sweet song echoed towards them, 'We must go. The storm comes and the Garden awaits.'

'Storm?' said Aziraphale, fingers locking with Crowley's as he met his worried gaze.

'You remember what we saw on the horizon, Aziraphale,' said Beelzebub, pointing into the distance, 'I think it was a sandstorm.'

The warrior chuckled before he turned towards the great smudge on the horizon, walking towards it with a purpose that had them all following despite their uncertainty. 

'Lord, what do we do?' said Michael, 'We are placing our trust in a mortal.'

'Who knows more than any of you knew,' She said, 'Who recognises you all, gives you the titles long since forgotten or never known by Man. Whatever is at work here, whatever the first of my children bore into her descendants, it has been waiting for us.'

'But, everything in this world comes from You,' said Michael, 'You are absolute.'

'I came from somewhere myself, child.'

'Crowley, what's happening?' said Aziraphale, God's words sending a shudder up his spine, 'Why are we trusting this man? This could be a trick, Gabriel...'

'Is not clever ever to think of this,' said Crowley, tightening his grip on his hand, 'Nor would he use a human, even to fool us. Despite my misgivings, I trust this man.'

'Another feeling?' said Aziraphale, raising his voice as the sound of the storm began to reach them.

Crowley nodded, 'He knows us, angel,' he said, looking forward where the warrior still strode ahead of them, unconcerned by the storm he was walking into, 'And there's something about this place. Something has been drawing me here. I know it sounds odd.'

'Well I've got used to believing your feelings,' said Aziraphale, 'You've never led us wrong, even before all this. I've walked towards Armageddon with you, my love, what's a sandstorm compared to that? Don't have a handy Anti-Christ on hand to give me a new body if I get discorporated though.'

'No one is getting discorporated,' said Crowley, 'If this is the way to Eden. If this storm is part of her defence, then it won't harm us. We're a part of Heaven.'

'Lucifer isn't.'

'Well he is, in a way. He's still from Heaven...supernatural.'

'What about Michael?' said Aziraphale, 'God seems to have regained Her power but Michael is still mortal.'

'She will pass unharmed, Principality,' said the warrior, his voice carrying to them despite the distance between them and the growing roar of the storm, 'It is the purity of her heart, and not her divinity that will allow her to pass through the storm.'

'Her heart?' said Aziraphale, 'All our hearts?'

'I believe in them,' said Crowley, as the first stinging grains of sand hit them, 'Maybe this journey was meant to galvanise them for this point. Don't let go of my hand, Aziraphale.'

'Never,' promised the angel.

xxxx

'What are you doing now?' said Adam, trying to peer over Warlock's shoulder as he tapped away on the laptop Anathema had lent them.

'Proving that my former father is a complete idiot,' said Warlock, hitting enter and sitting back in his chair, 'Uses the same password for everything, including access to government agencies.'

Adam shoved his way in so he could see the screen, 'Is that the Pentagon?'

'I have my uses, Anti-Christ,' said Warlock, 'Thaddeus Dowling had top level clearance so our little hashtag, will be across the whole country before they even notice. That will get picked up by every hacker, low level and upwards, and they'll spread it. A few hours and it will be all over the world.'

'Won't we get in trouble?' said Wensleydale, his voice a stage whisper that succeeded in pulling the attention of half the customers in the small cafe.

Warlock grinned, 'I've got so much to teach you guys,' he said, 'Not a chance of them tracing it. It'll take them around half the planet before they even have an idea of the origin.'

'And you reckon, once this is out, people will look into it?' said Adam.

'Wouldn't you?' said Warlock, 'Get a hashtag trending and social media goes mad for it. More hits means more coverage and the message gets out.'

'But we can't make people believe it,' said Adam, 'Are you sure this will work?'

Warlock shrugged, fingers trailing absently to the pendant around his neck, 'Hope so. It's what Nanny...Crowley told us to do.'

'You can call him Nanny,' said Adam, 'I suppose the next bit is down to whatever Pepper and Brian managed to film with Jesus.'

'A sentence one doesn't often consider uttering,' said Wensleydale, 'I worry that people will think we're just crazy.'

'But we're not saying he's Jesus,' said Adam, 'And in modern dress he just sounds like someone spreading what my dad would call hippy-dippy stuff.'

'Whoever people think he is, the important thing is belief,' said Warlock, 'Nanny, Aziraphale and the others were saying it was belief they needed. Belief in God particularly, they need it to help Her regain Her power.'

Adam sighed, 'Easier said than done,' he said, 'Not a lot of people who believe properly any more.'

'We just need to do what we can,' said Warlock with a frown as he rubbed at his eye, thumb running over his finger as he pulled it away, 'Wonder if that's heavenly grit or earthly grit. Feels like sand.'

'Probably dust from the road,' said Adam, 'Though it did rain last night.'

'Wasn't normal rain,' said Warlock, with a shudder, 'Nanny said it was a result of the disruption in Heaven. If we succeed even a little bit, I just want a chance to put that Gabriel in his place.'

'Yes, he was quite unpleasant when we met him,' said Wensleydale, 'I hope he doesn't come down here again.'

'Let's not talk about it?' said Warlock, closing the laptop and slipping it into the bag Anathema had given him, 'Let's go and find the others, see what they've managed to pull together. I doubt we have too much time and I don't want to let them down.'

'We won't,' said Adam, pulling his phone from his pocket, 'Come on, they were filming near the church last time Pepper text me. Hey look, we're already trending.'

'Told you,' said Warlock with a grin.

'Not bad, not-the-Anti-Christ,' said Adam as the three of them headed to the door, 'Now let's get the message out there.'

xxxx

The storm was dense, cutting and violent as they fought their way through it, divine strength nothing in comparison to the strength of the wind. Crowley held one of his great silver wings before him, protecting himself as much as he could as the others surrounding him did the same. He was certain his grip on Aziraphale's hand was too tight but he didn't want to risk losing him as they fought to follow the warrior who seemed to move through the storm as though it were little more than a breezy spring day. 

He dared to look back, seeing God and Beelzebub pulling each other through, a line of blood on the demon prince's cheek where she had been hit. Still she pushed on, black wings protecting them both as God's failed to do anything to protect against the driving wind. The picture was mirrored by Lucifer and Michael, the latter stumbling under the onslaught but Lucifer held her strong, leathery wings straining to envelop them both as a particularly violent gust caught them. 

The sound was deafening, roaring as they pushed deeper but, as Crowley turned back to focus on their path, the sweet, low sound that had been ringing in his ears since he had regained his halo returned full force. As he struggled on, the sound began to take fuller form and his mind threw up memories of the loneliness of creation when he had been new and had been set forth to create the stars. His power had astonished him at first, how easily he created such beauty with little more than a thought. He had wondered then at the sound he had heard, the voice singing in the back of his mind, but, young and new as he was, he believed it was purely the power of his creator resonating in his head. Only now, fighting towards what he knew would be the greatest battle he was yet to face, he knew it was more, that the voice was something beyond either him or God Herself. It frightened him but the thought of turning back didn't cross his mind, he merely glanced to his side, watching the dogged steps of his husband as he fought his way forward, knowing that whatever was to come was necessary to protect the life they longed for and the child they had left behind moments after promising him a future.

A vicious gust caught them, the great silver wing that had given them so much protection now snapping back, toppling them both. He landed with Aziraphale on top of him, knocking the breath from his lungs even though he shouldn't need it. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around his husband before they struggled to their feet, Crowley's staff serving as an anchor against the storm.

'I can't...' rasped Aziraphale, voice hoarse and dry.

'Keep going,' said Crowley, dragging him close and forcing them onwards, 'We have to keep going.'

Time seemed to lose all meaning and Crowley could not tell how long had passed when the wind began to die down, the sand not as biting and their steps not as laboured as the saw something dark looming ahead. The sun was blinding when they broke through the storm, causing Crowley to shield his eyes against the glare. It was Aziraphale's gasp that had him fighting the brightness, a similar sound leaving him as he looked upon the walls he had not seen in over six thousand years. 

'Eden,' Aziraphale breathed, his head tilted upwards as he took in the rise of the great walls before them, 'It's Eden.'

'Indeed,' came a new voice, soft and achingly familiar despite the generations since they had last heard it, 'We have guarded it for so long, waiting for you all to come.'

Crowley's rational mind refused to accept the sight before him, grey-haired but strong and still bearing the beauty of her youth, but he could not deny it for long, not when the song in his ears reached a crescendo as he spoke her name.

'Eve.'


	26. The First to Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Character death (I won't say minor but not a major character either).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, sorry I've been away so long. It's been a real struggle balancing work (it is not fun trying to run a box office from my sofa!), home school with my five year old, plus feeding the locusts that are my family. Add to that a healthy dollop of lockdown induced anxiety and writing has been a struggle and, as this is an important chapter, I didn't want to give you anything sub par. I hope you enjoy it and you're all staying safe and well. Please note the warning above. I don't linger for too long on it but it happens (no graphic depictions though).  
> Whilst I'm here, I wanted to give a little shout out and encourage you all to read a phenomenal story from a truly awesome GO author. I'm useless at linking things so you'll have to find it the old fashioned way but please do give a little looksee to A Little Place in the Country by the glorious die_traumerei. Soft, sweet and full of domestic and home improvement goodness, it's a tale not to be missed. xx

Eve rose from where she had been seated on a fallen stone, the walls showing signs of wear but not as much as they should from the thousands of years that had gone by. She was dressed in similar clothing to the warrior who had led them to her but, even though her clothes appeared new, there was something in her air that screamed of the years she had watched the world and all it's changes.

'I've been waiting for you,' she said, 'For so very long.'

'How are you alive?' said Aziraphale, 'I was there when you died. I was with you. I held your hand.'

'And I was grateful,' said Eve, taking hold of his hand and folding it between her own, 'Dear Aziraphale, from the first you were there for me and all my children ever since. Your face was the last I thought I would see before whatever lay beyond. I waited in the darkness for my creator or to go below, where the damned fell.'

'You never came to us,' said Lucifer, 'I assumed you'd ascended.'

'And I assumed...' said God, 'I rejected you. So when you didn't come I thought you had rejected me.'

Eve shook her head, abandoning Aziraphale's hand and heading towards her creator. If anyone, ignorant of who they were, was asked to say who was the mistress and who the subject in the scene, they would have named Eve queen, as she approached God with more confidence than even Her bravest angels dared show. She took hold of Her hand as she had taken Aziraphale's, warmly and with love bred through years of knowing.

'I wanted to come to You,' said Eve, 'I waited for You despite us having not spoken from the day You sent us from this place...'

'Forgive me for that, I beg you,' said God, Her eyes turned down to their joined hands, 'Had I my time again...I made so many mistakes.'

'You were young,' said Eve, gently, 'So very young.'

God shook Her head, 'I was so very old, daughter, even then.'

'Maybe to us,' said Eve, 'But You were young all the same. But enough, we could spend hours on the past when the future needs our attention. I do not know what my purpose has been here other than to guard the Garden. My children have done me proud for centuries in dissuading those who would wander too close to the borders and the Earth herself has provided many deterrents. The only mortals who have ever come close, who were righteous enough to approach, have believed it a dream and gone away, happy and sure in their faith in You, my Mother. Even so, none have been beyond the walls, they have been sealed even to me since the day we were turned from the Garden. All I know, all the stars have said, is that we must await the Starmaker, the Knowledge Giver, the Prince of Heaven.'

'How could the stars have told you that?' said Crowley, knuckles white as he gripped his staff, 'I made them and wrote nothing into their design. I know nothing of any of this.'

Eve shrugged with a smile. 'I do not pretend to know the workings of the heavens, my Lord...'

Crowley hissed, 'Don't call me that,' he said, 'I'm not...'

'I only call you by the name the stars gave you,' said Eve with a bow, 'But if it discomforts you, give me the address you wish for.'

'Crowley,' he said, 'Just Crowley. Nothing else, please.'

Eve nodded, 'As you wish,' she said, 'I am yours to command, now my watch is through. Eden is yours for whatever is to come now.'

'Wait!' said Michael, her hand slipping from Lucifer's arm as she stepped forward, 'I don't understand any of this. Who has been talking to you? Telling you about us coming? How can we trust that you are not working for Gabriel?'

Eve's eyes darkened. 'Work for Gabriel?' she said, fingers flying swiftly down the fastening of her top before she opened it, no shame in her nakedness as she displayed the scars the criss-crossed her body in a patchwork of pain. 'This is the result of my one and only meeting with that most holy of Archangels. My punishment for the sin I had already been punished for. He laboured for three days on his task and he performed it well for they have not faded in six thousand years, nor has the pain lessened. This is only the half of it and you ask if I am working for him.'

'I'm so sorry,' said Michael, 'I didn't...'

'Then rest assured I did not live this long to bait a trap,' said Eve, fastening her clothes, 'I am no more Gabriel's than I am anyone's. My only aim is to protect my children, for all on Earth came from me and so I am mother to them all. I answer the stars, no one else. I am sorry if I can provide no further explanation but the information I have received has been through visions and dreams, I have been unable to question, an irony not at all lost upon me.'

Crowley laughed weakly. 'Life likes to throw that one around quite often,' he said, 'However you have been given the information, if you say you are on our side then I believe you. If no one has any further objections, I suggest we get inside.'

No argument was forthcoming, though the sense of wariness still hung on them all, the talk of stars and things beyond their ken disconcerting, even God looking around with a frown as Eve waved to her warrior. The man turned, heading back into the spinning storm they had struggled through with the same ease he had entered with. 

'Follow me,' said Eve, 'The Eastern Gate is not far unless you wish to enter another way.'

God shook her head. 'When I expelled everyone, I made it so that none could enter,' she said, 'I'm not even sure if I can get in with my power so diminished. I don't know that it will respond. The gate at least...'

'Let's start there,' said Lucifer, helping Michael over one of the fallen stones, 'And we'll see where it takes us.'

Silence was the agreement, all of them following Eve around the great towering walls. Aziraphale hurried his steps until he came to Crowley's side, capturing his hand.

'I'm...I...' he said, unable to find the words as Crowley's fingers tightened around his.

'I know,' he said, 'It doesn't make sense.'

'How could God not know?' said Aziraphale, 'And this talk of stars. I never knew what you did to make them but I don't recall there being any sentience. I want to trust Eve, I do trust her, but Michael voiced thoughts...and I don't mean that I think there is deceit intended but could she be being hoodwinked? Gabriel is so cruel and he could...Crowley I'm so frightened. Every step feels like one closer to something I don't want us to be part of.'

'Just stay close to me,' said Crowley as they rounded the curve of the wall, 'Until we're sure what's happening. My stars don't talk, they can't talk.'

'We know we're meant to be here, we... oh my...I never thought I would see this again.'

Crowley held a hand up, shading his eyes from the Sun as he eyes trailed up the ancient stones. 'I fell in love with you on top of that wall, angel.'

'Right under my nose,' said God, reaching a hand out towards the wall, her fingers curling in on themselves as She frowned. 'I can't feel anything. Whatever has happened to me, I can't do anything. I can't get us in.'

'Surely we can fly in,' said Beelzebub, 'Or from beneath, we always got in before.'

'When it was open,' said God, 'I allowed you in. I always knew you were there...well, most of the time.'

'So we've crossed half the planet to get here,' said Michael, 'And we can't get in. Perfect.'

'Nonsense,' said Lucifer, 'Surely there is a way. Eve, your... stars, or whatever they truly are, what did they say about this moment?'

She frowned. 'Nothing. All I had to do was wait for you.'

'You said before they instructed you to await the Starmaker,' said Aziraphale, 'And it's your garden, Crowley.'

Crowley frowned before he tightened his fingers around his staff, 'No pressure then,' he said, approaching the wall. He reached out, pressing a hand to the rough stonework but it was senses far beyond his corporeal form that he used to seek out an entrance. Despite the effort he felt nothing but the powerful magic that had kept everyone out for so long. 'I'm sorry I can't... I'm not strong enough.'

'You are, my love,' said Aziraphale as he heard the break in his voice, 'You're more than enough.'

The angel's cool hand covered his husband's where it rested on the wall. Before either of them could pull back, a golden light enveloped their joined hands, a crack appearing in the wall before it peeled back, leaving an opening for them to pass through. The dust was thick but beyond they could make out the shape of trees in the Garden beyond.

'How did you do that?' said Lucifer behind them.

Crowley smiled, 'Angel of the Eastern Gate,' he said, 'I don't think it was me this part of the journey was waiting for. We had to be here together.'

'That's either romantic or terrifying,' said Aziraphale, keeping hold of his hand as they peered through the opening, 'Should we go in?'

'It's what we came to do,' said Crowley, 'Be brave with me.'

'Won't be the first time,' said Aziraphale, 'I am quite sick of dust though, my darling.'

'Says the angel who ensures the downstairs portion of our home is always covered in it,' said Crowley as they stepped over the jagged stones at their feet and into the Garden, 'And I...oh!'

'What's wrong?' said Aziraphale, waving a hand to clear the last of the dust, almost stumbling as he felt one of his companions hit his back at his sudden pause, 'Beg pardon. It's just...oh dear.'

'What's oh dear?' said Beelzebub behind him, 'Give us some warning before you stop next time.'

'Dreadfully sorry, my dear,' he said absently as he took in the sight before him, 'Just not what I was expecting.'

He felt a twist in his heart as he took in the sight of what had once been the most verdant and beautiful garden on Earth, the cradle of all humanity, now barren and broken. The trees were mere skeletons with not a single leaf on the boughs, the grass was dry and crisp, crackling beneath their feet as Crowley stepped them further into the Garden. It was silent, augmenting the surprised voices behind him as they too took in the sight. 

'Oh Crowley,' he said sadly, 'All your work... I never even thought...I'm sorry. Crowley?'

He stepped around to face his husband as he realised he was too still, more than shock at the scene rooting him in place as the others trailed in behind them. He wasn't surprised when he saw the strange blackness in Crowley's eyes, the otherworldly gaze that meant something beyond their understanding was at work. He tightened his grip on his hand, hoping it would offer him some sort of grounding.

'And we've stopped, why?' said Lucifer, 'This place looks terrible.'

'Crowley's in need of an exorcism again,' said Beelzebub as she came around to face him, 'That is so creepy. I love it.'

'Could we please not make light of this,' said Aziraphale, 'Crowley, love, can you tell me what's happening?'

Beelzebub waved a hand in front of his face, 'I think you're on a road to nowhere, Aziraphale,' she said, 'He's no longer in the room.'

'I don't like it,' said the angel, 'He's never been like this before. The other two times it's happened he's at least been talking to me. I don't know what's happening.'

'His powers are going through a metamorphosis,' said God, stepping around until she too was facing him, 'I can't explain it but this place is the greatest demonstration of his power on Earth. Though I had a hand in it, this was mostly him.'

They all startled as he finally moved, fingers heading to his pocket though his eyes were still sightless and black. He retrieved the same golden twist that morphed into his halo in his hand before he raised it to his head and settled it in place amongst the russet curls of his hair. 

'Best you all step back,' said Aziraphale, dropping his husband's had as he took Beelzebub's sleeve to pull her away, 'You saw what happened last time. Lucifer, you're still a demon, I suggest you look away entirely. Eve, you too.'

His warning came just in time as the great golden light surrounded Crowley once again. Silver wings sprouted from his back, closely followed by another four, shimmering and large as the halo sprang into flame. Even Aziraphale felt the need to look away, the raw power something he had not seen even in Heaven, but a gentle hand on his cheek turned him back until he met the soft, golden gaze he had first seen on the day of his creation.

'Never feel the need to look away from me, angel,' said Crowley before he turned his gaze to the Garden once more, 'I need to wake her. Help me?'

'How can I?' asked the angel, following him as he headed deeper into the Garden, the grass crunching soundly beneath their shoes. 

Crowley looked back again and Aziraphale was relieved to see a more familiar look in his eyes as well as a smile on his lips. 

'Stay close,' he said, 'I'll have to wake her up but it will take a lot out of me and I'll feel better knowing you're near.'

'If you need protection, the others...'

'Are not you,' said Crowley, 'I don't trust anyone to protect me better. Sit beside me and keep them all back, even God. I need room to work. Just keep talking to me. I used to lose myself for days in this place so it will be good to have someone I want to get back to grounding me.'

Aziraphale nodded, sitting beside him as Crowley settled himself on the floor with his staff across his lap. 'I'll be here,' he promised, 'Just be careful.'

'I promise,' said Crowley, before his eyes fell shut and the six great wings flared wide, the ground beneath them beginning to tremble.

xxxx

'I still don't know if we're hitting the right mark,' said Warlock, peering over Adam's shoulder at the phone in his hand, 'I'm mean, it's trending but is it enough about God?'

Adam waved away a bee that sauntered a little too close to his face, 'You can't go in with the religious stuff too soon,' he said, 'It might scare people off.'

'Can't you just make them believe,' said Pepper, 'Like you did when we were eleven?'

'Didn't think you'd want to encourage something like that?' said Adam, 'Hardly went well and my power isn't what it was then, I wouldn't know where to begin. Besides, not exactly right is it and I think this belief needs to be voluntary.'

'Perhaps another video would help,' said Pepper, looking over to where the remainder of their party sat on the other side of their part of Hogback wood, Jesus sat with Brian and Wensleydale as Dagon hovered nearby, looking thoroughly put out about having to be on sentry duty. 'Lay it on a little more.'

Warlock sighed, 'Might look like we're trying too hard but Nanny wanted us to work fast,' he said, 'I just wish we'd had time to talk about it more. I don't know what they need and I can't let them all down. They need us.'

'We're doing what we can,' said Adam, 'And from what you said, they don't really seem like they know what they're doing either. Don't stress. We'll get there. We did before.'

'Just,' said Pepper, 'We didn't know what we were doing either.'

'This feels bigger,' said Adam.

'Bigger than the end of the world?'

'Better option than the world under Gabriel,' said Warlock, 'He's terrifying.'

'Then let's give the another video a try,' said Pepper, 'Do what we can to tip the odds in our favour. I'd rather say we tried than we just talked about it.'

Adam nodded, 'What's our angle this time then?'

'Why not ask Jesus?' said Warlock, 'Might not have been on social media but he's done the whole word of God thing before.'

Adam nodded as they got to their feet, crossing the leaf littered floor to where the others sat, their movement barely acknowledged as Wensleydale continued to quiz Jesus on the political landscape of his time and offering comparatives to the political climate of the day. The infinite patience and understanding the mortal son of God was clearly being tested if the glassy look to his eyes was anything to go by. Dagon even looked as though she was contemplating a bath in holy water as she picked at her teeth with a twig she'd picked up off the floor. 

'Can I take you lot home yet?' she grumbled, 'I'm sure it's your bedtime.'

'It's three in the afternoon,' said Pepper.

'And you are all drooling midgets. I say it's nap time.'

'Clearly Nanny didn't take childcare lessons from you,' said Warlock, 'She always gave me sugar and let me into my parents' room when it was my nap time. I once threw up in a shoe and it took them a week to find it. She made sure I had ice cream every dessert for a month after that.'

Adam laughed, 'Does Aziraphale know what he's getting into in adopting you?'

Warlock shrugged, 'He was there for most of it when I was with Nanny,' he said, 'And much as he tutted a bit, he was usually smiling. I hope he really means it.'

'Of course he means it,' said Pepper, 'He's an angel. Plus he's pretty cool for an old guy.'

Dagon gagged as she stuck two fingers in her mouth, 'Angels. Yuck.'

'Some of us are not so unpleasant,' said Jesus, clearly relieved to be liberated from Wensleydale's questioning.

'You were born human,' said Dagon, 'Different kind of angel. Still don't like your lot either though.'

'Don't you get bored being grumpy?' said Brian, routing around in his pockets and pulling out a filthy handkerchief before a couple of bare sweets, 'Do you want a jelly baby?'

'Sugar and snot,' said Dagon, reaching for one and popping it into her mouth, 'Still better than what we get in Hell.'

'Moving on,' said Pepper with a grimace, 'We need to make another video, get the word out some more.'

'Whatever you need,' said Jesus, 'Are we a virus yet?'

Warlock laughed, 'It's viral and yes, well sort of. The message needs to be clearer but if we're too explicit we risk being written off as just another religious post. God doesn't track all that well for those who don't want to hear about Her.'

Jesus nodded, 'I have worked with similar. We could...'

'Shut up,' snapped Dagon, her hand moving to the weapon at her waist, 'Do you feel that?'

'Angels,' said Jesus, 'And I doubt on our side. I have some of my people near if they are needed.'

Dagon shuddered, 'Call them,' she said, pulling the blade from her side and driving it into the ground, a pulse going out through the earth, 'Mine are on their way.' 

'What's happening?' said Adam.

'We're about to have company,' said Dagon, 'Nazareth, whoever is in your party, have them protect the children and get them out of here if you can.'

'Stay close to me, children,' he said, none of them offering any argument as several people burst into the woods, 'They're with me. They will keep you safe. Protect the youngsters, my friends.'

No sooner than the command had been issued, Warlock felt himself pressed into a tight circle with Adam and the others, surrounded by the angels that had been instructed to protect them. Despite their closeness, he could still make out others rushing into the clearing. He recognised the demon Hastur and several other faces he had noticed trailing them in the village, all of them with weapons drawn and responding to Dagon's barked commands. 

The crackle of thunder that echoed through the trees took him back to the evening he had been taken from his parents, the smell of ozone accompanying the too raw memory of his mother giving him up without any sort of fight. 

'That bastard again,' hissed Pepper at his back.

'Who?' said Warlock, hating the tremble in his voice.

'Gabriel,' growled Adam, 'Plus another twenty that I can see. You alright?'

Warlock shook his head, reaching under his collar to grip at the pendant around his neck. 'No.'

'When I discovered there was a traitor amongst us,' came Gabriel's cultured tones, 'It didn't take that demon calling out your name for me to realise who it was, Nazareth.'

'The Prince of Heaven is no demon,' said Jesus, 'But even if he was, I would ally with him in a heartbeat if the opposing choice was you. You have betrayed everything it is to be an angel.'

Gabriel laughed, 'So speaks the human,' he said, 'She only gave you and your brethren wings because She felt obliged to. You are no kind of angel. So tell me, Son of God, how loyal are you to your new alliances? Give yourself up to me now and they can all go free, except for the brat the demon favours, he still has things to answer for in Heaven.'

'They're going nowhere,' snapped Dagon, 'They are under Lucifer's protection now.'

'Yet your master is absent,' said Gabriel, 'Do you think his name is enough to protect you?'

'The powers he gave us are more than enough,' said Dagon.

'So confident. I could almost respect it,' said the Archangel, before his voice grew icy, 'Kill them, bring the traitor and the boy to me.'

Warlock felt a hand close around his wrist as he heard Dagon's shouted commands before the sound of weapons beyond his understanding clashed around them, his head instantly aching at the alien sound. 

'You're going nowhere, mate,' said Adam, tightening his grip.

A wing hit him as the angels protecting them, struggled to shield them. He heard a scream, unsure of who it came from as what felt like hands tore as their clothes through any gaps that could be found. His brain and eyes failed to process the sights before him, the forces around him far beyond his understanding. Something closed tightly around his waist and he flew backwards, dragged across the floor as Adam lost his grip on him. He struggled as best he could, terror making him bold as he fought against his captors, barely realising he had cried his friend's name as he was dragged away.

'Let them go!'

He was sure it was Adam's voice he heard over the din of the battle but it was transformed, piercing and raising every nerve on end but the hands gripping him let go and he struggled to his knees in time to see Adam suspended above the clearing as everything froze before the thunder broke again, leaving only those who had defended them in the clearing. 

He jumped as a hand took hold of his arm, only relaxing as he looked into Hastur's ashen expression.

'On your feet,' said the demon, heaving him up before he crossed the clearing to where Adam had lowered himself back to the floor. 

His legs refused to cooperate, folding beneath him again as he watched the scene unfold. His new friends, safe but bloodied, were being helped up by their angelic protectors as several others offered a hand to the demons that had fought just as hard. All of them bore marks of the battle but it was the swiftly growing blood stain on the front of Dagon's shirt that had several of them rushing to her aid, regardless of any past rivalry. 

Hastur caught her as she fell, pressing a hand to the worst of the blood before he turned an imploring eye to the angels around him. He felt the thrum of power as Jesus himself knelt beside the fallen demon and covered the wound himself. Time slowed but all too soon the hand that had covered the wound, reached up with a gentleness that spoke volumes, bloodied fingers closing Dagon's eyes before reaching out to Hastur's shoulder. The demon shook it off, shouting curses as he got to his feet, promising endless retribution for Dagon's fate. 

Warlock brushed roughly at the tears that sprang from his eyes, the grit on his hands scratching his cheeks and offering him some grounding through the pain. He tried once more to find his feet as Adam hurried over to him but the boy's hand on his shoulder kept him in place. 

'It's alright, mate, stay there,' he said, flopping down beside him, 'Don't try to get up.'

'Is she dead?' asked Warlock.

Adam nodded, 'And there's nothing they can do. The weapon they got her with did something. I don't really understand. I wish I'd been quicker but I can't control it properly.'

'Didn't know you could do... whatever it was you did.'

'I don't really know what I can do,' said Adam, 'It just happens, throw back to when I was properly the Anti-Christ.'

'You should have just let them take me.'

Adam snorted, 'No chance of that. Crowley would skin me, regardless of who my true father is,' he said, 'Hopefully it will make that wanker Gabriel think twice about coming back.'

'I hope so,' said Warlock, 'Sorry I was useless.'

'No one is expecting you to fight angels,' said Adam, 'But we need to work out how to protect ourselves. We're no use to the others if we're dead.'

'Any ideas?' said Warlock.

'Not a single one,' said Adam, 'Except getting back to the village. I'm not ashamed to say I really want my mum right now.'

Warlock's fingers strayed to his pendant once more, 'At least your parents are nearby, mine are somewhere in Africa looking for a garden they don't know how to find.'

'They'll be back,' said Adam, though his voice didn't hold too much conviction, 'And right now you have Anathema and Newt, they're pretty cool. Reckon you can stand?'

Warlock struggled to his feet, 'Standing, yes. Walking, debatable.'

'Lean on me a bit,' said Adam, 'Guess I've had a bit more practice than you. I need to talk to Hastur and we should probably let Lucifer know what's happened. Can you call Crowley?'

Warlock nodded as they made slow progress towards where the others stood quietly around Dagon; demon, angel and human sharing the mourning of their fallen protector.


	27. Restoration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I've been working on short stories for the Good Omens Celebration and that, combined with the fact that I am totally binge watching The Untamed (I have found the shippers hill I'm going to die on there!), my writing of this hasn't been as productive. Hope everyone is keeping safe. x

It was amazing how quickly six thousand years rolled away. Aziraphale was forced on several occasions to remind himself that there was a world and a life beyond the walls of Eden as the lush wilderness took root around them. 

He had wondered at first what Crowley was doing, for a long while the ground merely grumbled beneath them but then the sound of running water had echoed from somewhere deep in the Garden. It had been Michael who had seen the first plant, her gasp of surprise rousing Aziraphale from his vigil at Crowley's side to see both her and Beelzebub marvelling over the tiny sprout that grew before their eyes until it came to resemble a rose bush, green and lush and bursting with flowers. From then on life sprang up all around them, the Garden restoring itself to the splendour it had known at it's creation. 

Throughout it all, Crowley sat amidst the growth, eyes closed and wings extended, providing shade for Aziraphale as he continued his guard while the Sun cut its path over their heads. The trees, now as tall as they would have been had they grown for a hundred years or more, provided shade for the others. God and Michael succumbing to sleep not long after mid day, laid back to back beneath the bows of something akin to a willow. Eve was not far behind, though she chose to rest away from them and Aziraphale felt a twinge of guilt that he didn't go to her when she had shown so much trust in him throughout the life he had thought she'd led but it was not enough to draw him from his husband's side, his concentration never faltering even when night fell and the only light came from the stars and the fiery halo that danced over Crowley's copper curls.

To keep himself entertained, he spoke of his memories both before Crowley's fall as he now recalled but also their entwined lives after they had met again in Eden. In between stories, he collected up the occasional gem that fell from Crowley's eyes and onto the grass beneath them. He was unsure if he should but, when they seemed to do nothing but sit and glimmer, he collected them up and wrapped them in a handkerchief. He kept it in the inside pocket of his coat whenever it wasn't needed, ready to return them to the ground in an instant if he thought they were needed but not wanting them to be used as something purely decorative as the angels had been want to do when Crowley had walked Heaven adorned as the Prince. 

It was mid afternoon the following day when a shrill ringing cut through the peace of Eden, rousing the others from their exploration of everything Crowley was bringing back to life and Aziraphale from his reminiscing. He had looked up at Crowley as he realised it was coming from the pocket of his jacket, hoping that it would rouse his husband from his trance but he continued to sit peacefully, his eyes and mind closed against the world Aziraphale was inhabiting. 

With a muttered apology he feared was not heard, Aziraphale unbuttoned Crowley's jacket, reaching into the pocket and retrieving the phone, the picture of Warlock on the screen hastening his hands as he answered the call. 

'Warlock, dear boy, is everything alright?' he said, before he realised it was Crowley's phone he had answered, 'Aziraphale speaking by the way, Crowley is somewhat indisposed.'

'Is she ok?' came Warlock's voice over the line.

'Perfectly fine,' said Aziraphale, though he tasted the edge of the lie like bitters on his tongue, 'Doing something...well, hard to explain. We're in Eden. Surprised we have a connection to be frank with you but doesn't matter, we have it. Is everything alright?'

'Not really,' sniffed Warlock, 'Um...Adam's here and he wants to speak to Lucifer, says he should speak to him first.'

Aziraphale felt a chill pass through him but forced any hint of it from his voice. 'Of course,' he said, 'Just a moment. Lucifer.'

'Has he woken up?' said Lucifer as he headed over before he noticed the phone in his hand, 'Who are you calling?'

'Warlock called me...well, Crowley but it's Adam who wants to speak to you.'

Lucifer's step faltered before he reached his side, holding out his hand for the phone, 'Adam? Why?'

'I don't know,' said Aziraphale, raising the phone to his ear once more, 'Warlock, I have Lucifer here if you want to pass the phone over to Adam.'

'Ok,' said the boy, 'Adam says put the phone on speaker.'

'I...umm,' said Aziraphale, handing the phone to Lucifer, 'Adam says to put it on the speaker thing. I always get the wrong button.'

The lack of a quip or a roll of Lucifer's eyes, combined with the tremble in his hand as he pressed the required button, spoke volumes and Aziraphale resisted the urge to offer any comfort as the ruler of Hell spoke to the child he had given to the world for the first time since Armageddon. 

'Adam?' 

'Is that Lucifer?' said the boy in question, 'You sound different. You were louder before.'

'It's me,' said Lucifer, 'Aziraphale said you wanted to speak to me.'

'Yeah, reckoned I should be the one to tell you,' said Adam, 'Gabriel came here, to Tadfield. We're alright, Jesus had people nearby, other angels I mean and they protected us as well as Dagon and her demons. It wasn't a long battle, I don't really know what happened but Dagon, she... she was trying to protect us and the weapons the angels had... Hastur said they smited...smote...I don't know the word. She died. I'm sorry, I don't know how you're meant to tell people stuff like that.'

'Dagon?' said Lucifer.

Aziraphale didn't hesitate, reaching out and taking hold of his wrist as he watch the play of emotion that seemed alien on his pale face but they were there all the same. A click of his fingers and a quick miracle easily pulled the attention of the others, Beelzebub quickening her step as her gaze fell on her master's face.

'Hastur,' said Lucifer, 'If Hastur can get her back to Hell... Adam, you need to tell Hastur.'

'He says that won't work,' said Adam, 'He says she's properly gone. I'm sorry, we didn't mean... we didn't know...'

'Adam, it's not your fault,' said Aziraphale, 'The guards were put in place to protect you.'

'They came for me,' said Warlock, 'Gabriel said he'd come for me and for Jesus.'

'No one is at fault,' said Aziraphale as Lucifer handed the phone back to him before turning to tell the others what had happened, 'Warlock, Adam, all of you, please believe me that none of you hold any fault in this. What happened to poor Dagon is a dreadful thing but this is a war and casualties will occur. I wish it were otherwise. I would give all you dear children a world without such terror. Please tell me you are unharmed though, all of you.'

'A few bruises but we're fine,' said Adam, 'I managed to tap into my powers and they backed off pretty quick when I let loose.'

'You used your powers,' came Lucifer's voice as he pulled away from the group and retrieved the phone from Aziraphale's hand once more, 'Tell me what you did, you shouldn't be able to do anything.'

Aziraphale reached out, desperate to speak to Warlock, but Lucifer had already turned away again. His attention was instead caught by Beelzebub who stood with her back to the them all, arms wrapped tightly around her middle. Despite the tension in her stance though, Aziraphale could see the shake of her shoulders. God was speaking quietly to Michael and Eve, though Her eyes kept straying to Beelzebub in concern. Whatever was preventing Her going to her though did not act upon Aziraphale and he crossed the short distance to her.

'Beelzebub?'

'Go away,' she snapped, 'Stupid angel, I don't need your sort coddling me.'

'I'm not coddling,' said Aziraphale, 'I'm just here, just in case you want to talk or scream.'

Beelzebub growled, 'I shouldn't want to do either,' she said, 'I shouldn't care. I'm a demon, we don't care. We don't feel. I shouldn't feel...I shouldn't feel like this. Dagon...'

'I'm so sorry, Beelzebub,' said Aziraphale reaching out a hand to her shoulder but pulling back as she flinched.

'Don't touch me. I don't want you to touch me. I can't bear it,' she said, 'This isn't right. I shouldn't care.'

'But you do,' said Aziraphale, as gently as he could, 'And you're not doing yourself any favours by fighting it. If you are in pain, there is no shame in showing it.'

She tipped her head back, blinking, before she gasped out a sob, folding back in on herself until Aziraphale pressed his hands to her shoulders in an effort to keep her upright. She didn't turn to him but neither did she shake him off, instead they stood in an uneasy tableau, both unsure how they should proceed as the world rewrote the rules around them once more.

'I liked her,' said Beelzebub, still wrapped tightly around herself, 'She always worked hard, kept things in line. I could count on her. I think, as far it can ever be true from someone like me, she was my friend.'

'Don't sell how you feel short just because you think you should behave in a certain way,' said Aziraphale, 'The best friend I've ever had is a demon. I believe you have the same capacity.'

'Doesn't matter if I do,' said Beelzebub, 'She's gone and I can't... that bastard Gabriel has a lot to answer for.' 

'Quite,' said Aziraphale, 'But fighting for revenge is never going to get us anywhere. Fighting for what's right is the only way can move forward.'

'Easy for you to say.'

'Very easy,' said Aziraphale, 'Though not so easy to feel. I have so much anger when it comes to Gabriel, so many things I would have him answer for but it will only bring me closer to his way of thinking if I act upon it. Instead I choose to counter him with hope and with love, the things he cannot or will not feel. What better revenge than to love a demon and take him as my husband, and now we plan on raising a human child together. I will fill my home with love in order to counter him; fight for your friends in Hell, rather than seek revenge. Fight for humanity and for right, as Dagon did. You and she both fell for love in the beginning.'

'I remember her in Heaven. Always the first to start singing,' said Beelzebub before she scrubbed roughly at her eyes with her sleeve, 'You should get back to the phone. Warlock needs you more than I do. Go on, get away from me, interfering angel.'

Aziraphale smiled, 'If you need to talk at any time, just come and find me,' he said, only turning back to where Lucifer stood when she nodded. 

He met Lucifer's gaze, red eyes marked with sadness but his face still bore the pride of his title as he spoke into the phone.

'Look after yourself,' he said, 'When this is over, we'll have that conversation, I promise. Is Warlock still with you? Someone wants to have a word.'

'Sure,' came Adam's voice, 'He's right here. Bye, Lucifer.'

'Goodbye.'

Aziraphale heard the hesitation at the end of the word, Lucifer clearly wanting to add something to his farewell but he refrained, handing the phone over to Aziraphale. 

'They've been through it but they're ok,' he said, 'Talk to your boy.'

'Warlock,' he said, 'Are you there?'

'I'm here,' he said, 'Sorry, we didn't know how to break the news.'

'You did well. Never an easy task but you both handled it really well,' said Aziraphale, 'Are you certain you're alright?'

'Not really,' said Warlock, 'I was hoping I'd seen the last of Gabriel. I was scared. I wanted you and Nanny. You made me feel safe in Heaven.'

'Oh my dear, if I could come to you now I would but...'

'I know,' said Warlock, 'You guys are saving the world.'

'For you.'

Aziraphale startled as he heard the voice behind him, turning with a smile as Crowley's hand came round the cradle his around the phone.

'Nanny?'

'I'm here,' said Crowley, 'And Gabriel should not disturb you again. He will have enough to deal with facing us. Just keep doing what you can to bring people back to God and we will prevail. We'll be home for you as soon as we can be.'

'I'll be waiting,' said Warlock, 'Look, I need to go. Hastur says we should all head back into the village and I promised Anathema I wouldn't be out late. Promise... promise me you'll win.'

'We're fighting for you,' said Crowley, 'I'd say that gives us the advantage.'

'Please look after each other,' said Warlock, 'I love you and that's to Aziraphale too, if he's still here.'

'He is,' said Crowley, pressing a kiss to his husband's cheek, 'Though I think you may have overwhelmed him a little. We love you too, Warlock. As soon as this is over, we'll be back with you. Behave for Anathema and don't terrorise Newt any more than I would.'

'Oh don't say that to the boy, for goodness sake,' said Aziraphale, as Warlock laughed on the end of the line.

'I'll behave I promise,' said Warlock, 'Hastur's getting irritated. I really should go.'

'Go then, with our love,' said Crowley, 'If we stay on too long we'll never say goodbye and we have work to do here.'

'I'll see you soon,' said Warlock, 'Take care.'

'You too,' said Crowley before the line cut off and the screen went dark.

Aziraphale tucked the phone into his own pocket as he finally took in his husband, fully awake in the restored glory of Eden. Gone were the tailored dove-grey clothes, replaced with the white robes that had been his in Heaven. The sunlight caught the golden embroidery that edged the garments as well as the halo that was now calmed to a single glittering band across his forehead.

'I can't keep up with your fashion trends, my love,' said the angel, fingers moving unbidden to trace the embroidery on his shoulder, 'You look...my Raphael.'

Crowley smiled, 'It's this place, so much of me is here.'

Aziraphale caught a long auburn strand, curling it around his finger, 'How much did you hear of what happened in Tadfield?'

'All of it,' said Crowley, 'The sound of the phone began to wake me but it took a while to remember how my limbs worked, I was spread so thinly across the Garden. I'm afraid Dagon won't be the last to fall but we are best place to act from here. I was going to call Jesus to lead those who rebelled from Gabriel here but now I think it best he stays there with some of the others, the children are our weakest point.'

'Should we go back?' said Aziraphale, 'We've made a stand in Tadfield before.'

Crowley shook his head, 'It has to be here,' he said, 'We'd be too weak in Tadfield. This place is strong. The children will be alright. Warlock will be alright. He has to be. You and he are the reason I'm fighting so hard. For my family. It's all I've ever fought for, even when I didn't know it.'

'Right then,' said Aziraphale, 'Let's get to work. No idea what you've been doing but it certainly looks beautiful.'

'Preparing, she's ready to defend us,' said Crowley, 'Time to make our stand.'

'So what's our next move?' said Lucifer, coming to join them, 'Because I've just lost one of my best so I want to know what we're going to do next.'

'Call your people, all of them, empty Hell and bring them here. I'll open the storm, Eden is ours to command now. I'll need you at my side. Your power to mine,' said Crowley.

Lucifer nodded, 'I'm with you all the way my brother,' he said, 'What of the angels who rebelled with young Nazareth?'

'He will keep those closest to him in Tadfield, along with whoever you sit fit to remain there. The children will still need protection. The rest I will have him send here but they will need a commander. Which reminds me... where is my little sister?'

'Been a good few millennia since you have called me that,' said Michael as Crowley held out his hand to her.

'Been a good few millennia since you would have accepted it,' said Crowley, folding her hand in both of his, 'You've suffered so much. Now it is time to put it right. Trust me, as you once did Raphael.'

Michael nodded though her hand trembled. 'I trust you.'

'Then don't fight me,' said Crowley, eyes falling shut.

Michael yelped as golden tendrils leapt from Crowley's hands to hers, coursing up her arms and wrapping around her shoulders. The light was bright, forcing those witnessing it to turn away even as they heard the rustle of feathers and Michael's sobs. The light slowly dissipated and they turned back to see Crowley gently cradling the crying archangel but it was not that sight that gave them pause. It was the beautiful snowy white wings that stood proudly from Michael's back, moving gently in the breeze.

'How on earth...' began Lucifer, 'I... how?'

'I was the architect of Eden,' said Crowley, 'Creation flows through me and it was a gift I was more than happy to give. Now we have our commander, if she is willing?'

Michael nodded. 'Yes,' she said, 'Thank you, Crowley, you don't know... I've felt so lost.'

Crowley smiled, 'Take some time to get used to them again,' he said, 'We will need you on top form. My Lord, I must speak to you.'

God nodded, following him as he began to walk away. Aziraphale watched them go, torn between his surprise at Michael's restored wings and his confusion as to how it had been achieved but something deeper gnawed at his gut. The look in his husband's eyes when he had requested God's presence had been mirrored in Hers. A look that spoke without words, in a language that had been there's alone since the beginning of time.


End file.
